My mother’s house surrounds
me in a shroud: the tinkling
of the teaspoon as my father stirs
his tea, his tea; the chug of the washing machine
that never dies. The tubular wind chimes casting
their cool auric spell around us; the complaint
of the floorboards bearing up our lives.
And the busyness, of the birds in bush nearby… I
lie with eyes shucked open, not turning
to what waits to be let in.
I hear the phone shriek—and again—
then footsteps up the hall; the sound
of hesitation at the door—
as I elongate this moment,
try to dwell inside before.
*first published in Bluepepper
Comments 0
Beautiful Michele. Your poem captures perfectly the twilight state before fully waking to the day’s demands. I love that state. It is where I have learnt to listen to messages from Spirit…
Author
I love that state too, Lizzie – so much that I hate leaving it!
Please let me know when your single-authored collection of poetry (as mentioned in your bio) is available. I would love to order a copy. Thanks.
Author
Thanks, Liz. You will be the first to know and get one! x
‘Eyes shucked open’ is quietly terrifying, Michele.
I take that as a great compliment from you, Penelope ~ thank you! Quietly terrifying is the worst/best kind of terrifying in my opinion. And I do find much of life quietly terrifying if I think about it too deeply or for too long! Best not to think, perhaps?
Indeed! My solution comes in bottles, Michele.
Mine too, too much of the time! 🙂
Author
I take that as a great compliment from you, Penelope ~ thank you! Quietly terrifying is the worst/best kind of terrifying in my opinion. And I do find much of life quietly terrifying if I think about it too deeply or for too long! Best not to think, perhaps?
Indeed! My solution comes in bottles, Michele.
Author
Mine too, too much of the time! 🙂
This is lovely Michele.
Thank you, Chris. 😊
This is lovely Michele.
Author
Thank you, Chris. 😊
Wonderful Michele – your poem speaks of an “auric spell”. Your poetry seems to be etched with that quality too.
Thank you so much, Amanda. That’s such a lovely observation!
Wonderful Michele – your poem speaks of an “auric spell”. Your poetry seems to be etched with that quality too.
Author
Thank you so much, Amanda. That’s such a lovely observation!
Such an auditory lament, Michele. Love the diction in this one, especially the complaint of the floor boards, shroud, chug, auric. And I keep ruminating as to why you repeated “his tea”–don’t tell me, I like not knowing:)
Hope you are well. I’m at somewhat of a crossroads with my blog–thinking of taking the next step into writing a novel–feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of such an endeavor, though. We shall see. Thanks for inspiring me with your talent, as always.
Such an auditory lament, Michele. Love the diction in this one, especially the complaint of the floor boards, shroud, chug, auric. And I keep ruminating as to why you repeated “his tea”–don’t tell me, I like not knowing:)
Hope you are well. I’m at somewhat of a crossroads with my blog–thinking of taking the next step into writing a novel–feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of such an endeavor, though. We shall see. Thanks for inspiring me with your talent, as always.
Dear Michael,
Such insightful and supportive comments (as always!) ~ thank you. I WILL tell you about the tea, but only because you already really know: it’s to do with the auditory, which (as you noted) is the sense which drives the poem. When I was a child, my father always stirred his tea for so long that it drove the family crazy, and that memory has stuck with me — I like the sound the words make ~ ‘his tea, his tea’ ~ which are the tinkling sounds the spoon made as it swirled around and around the cup…
I think that’s a fine idea, you writing a novel! You are a compete natural, and should not doubt yourself. It IS a big endeavour, so of course you feel overwhelmed; but then why not just start putting one word in front of another, and see where you end up? What a fabulous journey that will be, one you won’t want to leave this earth without taking!
And thank you for inspiring me with YOUR talent!
Take care.
Michele
Author
Dear Michael,
Such insightful and supportive comments (as always!) ~ thank you. I WILL tell you about the tea, but only because you already really know: it’s to do with the auditory, which (as you noted) is the sense which drives the poem. When I was a child, my father always stirred his tea for so long that it drove the family crazy, and that memory has stuck with me — I like the sound the words make ~ ‘his tea, his tea’ ~ which are the tinkling sounds the spoon made as it swirled around and around the cup…
I think that’s a fine idea, you writing a novel! You are a compete natural, and should not doubt yourself. It IS a big endeavour, so of course you feel overwhelmed; but then why not just start putting one word in front of another, and see where you end up? What a fabulous journey that will be, one you won’t want to leave this earth without taking!
And thank you for inspiring me with YOUR talent!
Take care.
Michele
beautiful and haunting, love the floorboards line
Thanks so much, Ray,
beautiful and haunting, love the floorboards line
Author
Thanks so much, Ray,
Your writing is so breathtakingly well done. Lovely work…
Thank you so much, Tanyeno x
Truth is truth. You’re welcome.. 🙂
Your writing is so breathtakingly well done. Lovely work…
Author
Thank you so much, Tanyeno x
Truth is truth. You’re welcome.. 🙂
divine the way the words roll around and find magic on the paper/
Thanks, dear Danielle. You’re a bit of a poet yourself, it seems, from that fine comment!
divine the way the words roll around and find magic on the paper/
Author
Thanks, dear Danielle. You’re a bit of a poet yourself, it seems, from that fine comment!
I love this one xx
Hi Claine, thank you! Bless the mothers xoxo
I love this one xx
Author
Hi Claine, thank you! Bless the mothers xoxo