68 circle lane, valdosta.

 

 

 

SIS

had frambesia of another name

where the rasberry pustules broke the surface

of the mineral and she got lathered down, each night, with

sulfur and cultivation; where me and my two

cousins would dance in the duple of seed

and ova.

 

Where she sat nearest the wood stove

where the sweet potatoes were roasted and

the mice fell to pieces nearest the flame.

And although we were warned to stay clear

of that old Franklin that got so hot with

pastime and resin, we slept nearest its belly like old dogs

in the fragrant sweet odor.

 

Seeing that old house again breaks your heart.

A large limb fallen in the yard. The fig tree

that wouldn't grow in winter, turned over,

rupturing. A pit dug with those distinctive

brown shovel markings where the crock

broke with far less earnestness this time,

with evidence where the end of the garden

would start. Where the pole beans grew

with religious rites and perfumery

 

with those winding, twisting faces

never amiable until fall, when the pods

were heaviest and fell to the ground

like a monster in the shape of a

man.

Reviews

[Tree]

There were two parts to this touching poem; a house full of life and savory warm moments, and a home condemned to the cruelty of time. I really believe a home comes alive because we make it so; they are living breathing entities when we fill its cavernous spaces and hidden crevices with life, and love... This was an a deeply affecting piece, Dana, I will return to this

[Tree]

Did you add a new line break in that last stanza? I thought you might have, not sure but it looks different. I like this version..

[h d e rushin]

no, just went back and corrected the spelling.......dana

[Steven]

Some really heartbreaking lines in there.

Where the pole beans grew
with religious rites and perfumery
with those winding, twisting faces
never amiable until fall,

So, so good

[Corset]

unbelievably brilliant, you floor me with your twists and turns of phrase, home fires, wood smoke, the 'thickness' of this write unbelievable, oh i said that..lol. THIS is genius, this quiet strong limb, some times the air in which we stand in can become monstrous when remembering...things..

[Ken Simm.]

This is so rich in everything, description, story, lives, time. A house, a home and its memories. So beautifully written.