Sunday, May 11, 2014

higgs boson


I have this strange attachment to things ....
it has been there always
as if I could recognize some part of myself buried deep within
the downy fluff of a stuffed rabbit,
 or
along the fragile pastern & cannon of a 3 inch glass horse
something ...
and
I have this strange knack of losing things I didn't know were of value;
my grandmother's quilt
left in a kappa delt house,
a naked rabbit clock tucked behind a forgotten somewhere,
a spanish guitar left behind somewhere,
an austrian crystal necklace of tiny glass shells & flowers - the first spurge in a new town,
a picture my mother embroidered, over 50 years ago now, of a deer with a fawn, forgotten in a corner of a severed family branch ...
somewhere
is tucked a painting of dragons & orbs ... still in it's thin black frame ...
"I keep your picture
Up on the wall
It hides the messy stain
That's lying there
So don't you ask me to give it back ..."
well, I digress and you're beginning to get the picture. ( pun intended ...)
just recently I realized a green tufted footstool of my grandfathers is missing ... not where it has been.
for 8 years.
gone .
it is more than obvious to me that we leave pieces of ourselves with those we love at every coming together and at every parting
but
it is the pieces that exist there in the inorganic ... the inanimate that stun me :
the pieces of myself I have scattered to the corners & shadowlands,
into hands I know not
the piece of me that dwells somewhere I can't see
is anything truly inorganic ?
are we not everywhere ?
in tiny glass flowers, in the soft forgiveness of a quilt,
and the pastern & cannon of horses ?
tufted, missing, fragility .... found & connected .

4 comments:

  1. I love this Susie. It resonates and I would like to think that all the pieces of me I've left scattered about have not been totally forgotten as they were left in earnest Great piece!

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  2. I think all the things that would have been left about are not there any longer except in spirit. Homestead no longer in existence. So memories are in the wind. Lots of things I think my partner is grateful I no longer possess. I like memorabilia, so I have old letters that have stayed with me at least as far back as college & I save all things I write. And a few pieces of clothing that hold memories & records, the same. The more I think the more I remember that I just have with me in hiding. Maybe, I think I won't lose myself if those things are around to hold onto my identity. Your poem is wonderful at causing memories to float to the surface. Mostly those that carry the good thoughts otherwise I wouldn't hold onto those things I mentioned. Thanks Susie for such a marvelous insurgence of good thoughts. What an amazing poem awakened by such a divine poem, Susie. Well done. Peace, jk Jennifer

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  3. Oh Thank you Friend-Writers … thank you !

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