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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Thinking About Hydrangeas




photo by mindlovemisery

“He was more of a father to me
than my own lousy father,” said she
I wondered how bad it really must be
for an eight year-old to say those words
 so casually
Then she said, “Light blue
is my favorite color.”
Just another fact
And I pause to react,
“You really miss your grandfather.”
This is, after all, about grief
Speaking it to give some relief
So she speaks
Her words explode,
bullets searching for a target
Granddad let her spend the night
when Mom and Dad would scream and fight
Now she has nowhere to go
to escape the horror show that plays
itself out when Dad starts to drink
And she thinks he learned it
from his own dad
The cursing, that is,
The alcohol, too
And one time, he choked Mom
til she was almost blue
The dog is scared of him
‘cuz he get a little intense
She tries to make it all make sense when
anyone can see it’s just insane
“Are we going swimming if it starts to rain?” she asks me
And we’re off on something else now
and I remember reading about a flower 
whose color depends on the soil pH
What color will she bloom, growing in hate?
Who will nourish her now or
Is it too late
for this flower to flourish?
for this girl of eight? 

18 comments:

Brian Miller said...

dang....intense....love how you bring it to the flower based on the soil...that brings it home...still makes me ache a bit....

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Wow! Excellent, not heavy handed, but heavy hitting!

Anonymous said...

That was a sadly beautiful piece...I loved it. and love that it brought attention to a sad truth.

Anonymous said...

Wow, so powerful, I really think you wrote brilliantly on such a tough subject. Thanks for sharing!

Gerry Snape said...

yes I too love that you brought the ph of the hydrangea into the nurturing of the child ...very tender... what in life and loving turns us blue or pink or purple?!!

Kay L. Davies said...

Heartbreakingly true in many families. Those of us who had good dads should be grateful, and those who experienced this kind of trauma should get help, even though asking for help is difficult.
An excellent write, Ms Mouse.
K

Steven Marty Grant said...

Just beautiful writing, powerful images painted perfectly.

Audrey Howitt aka Divalounger said...

This is intense and just perfect--wow

Grace said...

How sad for such a little girl to grow up in such an environment ~ But I hope its not too late though and she will learn kindness & love from others ~ Good one LM ~

Anonymous said...

Oh wow you have no idea how much this reminds me of my own childhood. Except I stayed with my grandmother and later I came to regard my stepfather as more of a father than my own. This really hits home powerful and heart-wrenching

Katie Mia Frederick said...

ONesPAINDarknesLIghtnessPainLovePainDArknessLightnessLOVEOnES

Anonymous said...

A wonderful read-- the surface casualness lets the seriousness of the subject matter sink in and linger. Glad I stopped by :) ~peace, Jason

Anonymous said...

Things are not always as the seem. Something to think about. Nicely written.

Akila said...

profound! and love you built the scene here. Heart wrenching

Anonymous said...

Fast paced and powerful. Love the soil/color of the flower analogy.

Gemma Wiseman said...

Harsh truth for a young one. Harsher still for an adult to see such suffering and feel helpless to change it. A moving piece.

Anonymous said...

V.interesting mix of images and emotion-- lovely.

not displayed said...

I just want to hug that little girl and keep her safe.
So sad and powerful Miss Mouse