On Sunday evening, after the party ends
and family have gone, you’d love to say
how you can’t bear this gathering each May.
Your thoughtful husband usually sends
a rose bouquet, but changed his mind this year:
a special gift, it makes your finger shine
with emerald and ruby. “Too much wine,”
he banters as he wipes away your tear.
But you and I know, mother, what he can’t -
your April foolishness; how bit by bit
they snipped me out of you, took care of It;
how through the years I’ve been your confidante,
the reason for this night’s unraveling,
the garnet missing from the mother’s ring.
-- Catherine Chandler
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7 comments:
Very lyric. Happy mother's day to you, Pentimento!
Backatcha, Mrs. D.
Ohhhh.
This came to me like a punch in the gut. Really. For a few moments I couldn't breathe right.
I agree, Anne-Marie. It's brilliant, and the formal restraint makes the emotional impact so much greater.
+JMJ+
I had to read it twice before I understood.
Enbrethiliel, what do you think of the line "your April foolishness" and the closer about the missing garnet? Garnet is the birthstone for January (nine months after April).
Your ability to find and post materials I would never find, much less identify their truths, is amazing. TQ
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