Tuesday, May 22, 2007

another poem

Thinking about the post I last made in my outside the windows blog, about Eden, made me consider how many poems I wrote over the years involving those miscarried children.
The one below appeared years ago in Yankee magazine, out of New England, before they ended their poetry page, much to the regret of the lovely editor (who lived, pardoxically, in southern California). And to my regret as well.

The princess in the lost forest

Late spring rain.
The two children of my house
watch at the windows
stir the cats, read books

full of bright pictures:
monkeys & peacocks, other
children with the sunlight in their arms
impossible animals, dragons of snow

or wind, bears dressed for tea
the princess in the lost forest.
Sometimes we turn the pages
together, their heads gold & gold

leaning toward my arms
& they ask about endings &
ever after or where in the woods
the goblins might still live

The third, who was like rain in my fingers
never tugs at my hand
or frightens the cats
She sits very still under her cover of earth

& no one names her.

6 Comments:

At May 24, 2007 7:27 AM , Blogger marlyat2 said...

jarvenpa,

You really mustmustmust add a link to this from your Eden post on outside the windows!

 
At May 24, 2007 3:27 PM , Blogger jarvenpa said...

yes, I have. thanks (and I've linked in the other direction as well). thank you. I will slowly enter, if not the 21st century, then maybe the 20th at long last. Links! yay.

 
At May 25, 2007 8:28 AM , Anonymous marly said...

Trala for young crones who learn new tricks!

 
At May 26, 2007 10:53 AM , Blogger David said...

Some people believe that to speak the name of a passed loved one is to help them to live again. You have spoken her name to us and now she lives in our thoughts, a beautiful name and a beautiful thought.

 
At May 27, 2007 8:35 PM , Blogger Lori Witzel said...

Whew. This poem just knocked the breath right out of me.

The silence at the end was as heavy as the earthen blanket...well, I've been trying to say something insightful or transformative, but all I can do is type "Thanks for sharing that."

 
At May 28, 2007 11:46 AM , Blogger jarvenpa said...

thanks for your comment, david.
And Lori--well, it takes a poet (or a musician, perhaps) to hear the silence well, just as it takes an artist to see the spaces--or to show the world what's there.

 

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