A neighbor walks her spaniels at dawn
in the green park and orange light. A bullfrog
croaks alarm or desire near the pond where ducks glide.
On my walk to work, I pass a house
left empty by its black owners.
The overgrown lawn and old quarry stone steps
bid one long, lost welcome to friends.
They will not come again to drink beer,
grill brats, and sit in the shade of elms.
The for sale sign is a sign-post for lost worlds.
I've never set firmly my feet in this world,
or found the stillness of heart to plant
body and soul in earth. Like the lone firefly
announcing summer days ahead of its tribe,
I only brighten a night of loss.
Called to account,
perhaps bared teeth and claw
will slink from angled corners of my self,
those oblique shadows we cast unseen,
the blindness to what our acts produce,
the refusal to see who or what I was and became.
Friday, May 27, 2011
house on greenwood
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I like this very much, Charles. The whole of it entirely, with its shifting, shadowy sense of place and identity, and most especially, the loveliness of that third stanza.
ReplyDeleteVery beautifully done.
thank you Sarah. I deeply appeciate your time and comments.
ReplyDeletenice man...keep lighting the night firefly...enjoyed the walk, the visuals and little things you pick up...my feet are firm in this world for now being the only one i have...some interesting thoughts in that last stanza...th things that reside in the corners of our heart we are perhaps blind to...nice write...
ReplyDeleteYou writing creates space for me: safe, healing, expansive, challenging, or imaginative. It's a gift you share generously, thank you!
ReplyDeleteThat would be *your* - stupid morning :).
Deleteisn't it fascinating how something that happens on the outside to us can touch us and move so much on our inside...I've never set firmly my feet in this world,
ReplyDeleteor found the stillness of heart to plant
body and soul in earth.. loved esp. this part...planting body and soul in earth...this is sth. i would like to do..but think i didn't find the stillness as well so far..
The tone of your poem is mostly sad, but you made me smile at this: "A bullfrog / croaks alarm or desire". I saw it as a "sign-post" of the rest of your poem: The walker saw a house for sale, and imagined the former neighbours' life; but he could only imagine, because he is not them. He could feel loss, but maybe the neighbours had a desire to move, who knows? That's how I interpret it; the walker's realization that he's been refusing to see his own self would only make the story come full circle.
ReplyDelete(Well, I guess I do that often, so that's easy for me to see it that way ;))
This is a beautiful reading of the poem. I mostly agree, though I felt more a sense of rupture than completion, though that rupture might imply completion, or at least be on the way to out! :) Thank you.
DeleteKnow what?
ReplyDeleteI need Charles Miller, the intellectual chap in the glasses [?} to write a comment here, so I can understand the poem. That 's the way I understand them in most of the places he visits :-), with or without the specs.
Your not talking planting trees, are you? But I hadn't taken you for a gypsy until now. Although constancy in change seems to be at work here as well.
Hi Aprille, thank you for coming by. Please see my reply to Hiroshimem's comment. Does that go some way in answering your questions?
DeleteHi Charles, really enjoyed taking a walk through this story with your neighbour and the dogs! It reminded me a little of when I used to do my paper round as a teenager, just before dawn. It was a great time to observe the street scene when nothing was going on and stories crept out of the stillness.
ReplyDelete'Like the lone firefly
ReplyDeleteannouncing summer days ahead of its tribe,
I only brighten a night of loss..'...how touching these lines are. you create a special mood with your poetry reminding me of days and colors gone by..thank you for sharing.
That sense of being a spectator, of watching through the window, here a bit, but also a sense of that loss and darkness in the world that is so much to ask a single firefly to light--yet the bulb blinks autonomously, the light comes and goes, and means something important( especially to another firefly.) I often feel a stranger in this world, and so I see the poem through that lens, but also, under it all, the narrator seems to have a purpose, and that is to see and understand, despite the barriers between the feral and the rooted. Or so I pontificate, anyway. An excellent poem with a lot of weight to carry on its shoulders, that doesn't shirk a step.
ReplyDeletethe blindness to what our acts produce is a very poignant concept. we are all selfish in our own way
ReplyDeletesonnet 41
I sense the person on the outside feeling a sadness at an empty house whose occupants he may well have only seen in passing. But he knows it was a true home. Also maybe, that he has tried and somehow always failed to 'fit' in to this type of life himself and hasn't ever found where his heart does feel it is home. Whatever the interpretation, it is fabulous writing once again Charles.
ReplyDeleteThat move from observer of things outside - to things inside the self. I love the way you find significance in the ordinary things you pass on this walk, and how this opens up to pretty deep meditation on how we see, or don't see, ourselves. I'm off to read this one again. Cheers.
ReplyDeleteI have to say the line "On my walk to work, I pass a house
ReplyDeleteleft empty by its black owners." jumped out at me. I read the rest of the piece with a different ear than I when I began. I thought this might be a leisurely walk down your street but I think, instead, it's a commentary on estrangement this family felt in this neighborhood. Sad and so unnecessary.
But I could be wrong about the whole thing. Regardless, it made me think and feel and that's what good poetry does.
Really like the switch between the opening and the rest of the poem, and how in retrospect, the bullfrog's alarm is more than it initially appears.
ReplyDeleteIt's a great change of pace. Excellent work.
Wonderful details...love this...Like the lone firefly
ReplyDeleteannouncing summer days ahead of its tribe,
I only brighten a night of loss.
Lovely!
Very powerful poem - well done. I imagine a bit of the universal Boo Radley. (I joke, but it's really well done.) I think the main times I feel really at one with self is when writing. Then also when delivering babies (my own I mean. A moment too urgent to stand back from.)
ReplyDeleteThe final stanza is just wonderful here, but, of course, it depends on all that's gone before. k.
I think of the melody - "Man in a Raincoat" through this poem...not the lyrics. The melody always made me see a man, not only without a country but without hearth and home - a drifter, an observer, a poet, a novelist, a rounder seeking a pallet on the floor and then off to explore. It moves in and out of a kind of eerie fog examining both exterior and interior landscapes. Very effective piece.
ReplyDeleteAnd who is the walker, is he black too? We so rarely identify white man--we assume it. Your dropping of black in this poem opens that door wide. As does this: "will slink from angled corners of my self,
ReplyDeletethose oblique shadows we cast unseen,
the blindness to what our acts produce . . . "
I suspect the narrator--through his experience is everyone in this poem, both the missing and the ones missed.
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DeleteThe question about the black family is a good one. Why mention it? The home is in a predominantly white upoer middle-class neighborhood. I debated including the adjective, and dcided that it adds a dimension of verisimilitude that I believe is important for the truthfulness if the poem.
DeleteBeautiful poem, loved reading it. 'I only brighten a night of loss' - what a wonderful line, I can relate to that. I always feel like an outsider.
ReplyDelete"The for sale sign is a sign-post for lost worlds." -
ReplyDeletethat and as many have mentioned, that 3rd stanza, plus as david above mentioned, "I only brighten a night of loss" -
all, to me, indicators of someone touching some deep base within themselves, even if it doesn't feel "fully grounded -
but then, who is...
nice piece, charles, thank you ;-)
"Called to account
ReplyDeleteperhaps bared teeth and claw"...great lines that hit home at how shallow we are and how we have allowed so much to go on that is now asking us to "pay up pay up and count the cost"! thankyou
interesting write Charles - this house provoked lots of thoughts of reflection, the emptiness, the abandonment, and the internal questioning of the observer, wondering what theeir life was like how did it compare. How if ever roots had been made - I am still getting thoughts through and they were black, that has made me wonder too - could they not plant roots, not encouraged or didn't want to - so many questions of reflection and thoughts Charles - and I can see that house on the green hill, so clear - hugs Lib
ReplyDeleteThought provoking...the sense of abandonment, the unanswered questions..I liked it.
ReplyDeleteSome good lines, especially
“The for sale sign is a sign-post for lost worlds” (but maybe the for sale board, to avoid using sign twice??? not meant to be criticism, more suggestion).
I also liked “the blindness to what our acts produce,”....
I like how the poem's cadence reflects the walking about, and also how the poem turns from the noticing (perhaps for a first time) of the world without to the personal feelings in the third stanza provoked by the experience of looking and seeing (distinctly different activities, I think) that get pulled up short with the abrupt "Called to account". By the fourth stanza, there's a closing up again, as if the looking inside is a bit too much.
ReplyDeleteSo much is implied and contained in the lines "Like the lone firefly / . . . / I only brighten a night of loss."
You've done a remarkable job of beautifully capturing a solemnity. I pulled this up a full 15 minutes ago, and I just keep reading, over and over. That, more than anything, confers a greatness to this work: a mirrored pond small but deep, we the reader standing on the bank, looking, considering our reflection, gently rippled by your words. The line "I've never set firmly my feet in this world" speaks to me most directly, and pulled me in with a sense of authentic identification. This is a uniquely superb poem.
ReplyDeleteThank you for inluding me Charles. Life and emptiness go hand in hand at times..
ReplyDeleteIt's so easy to pigeonhole people and events in order to feel comfortable in this world. But we sometimes just don't know, do we...You make me wonder..of course, that Black family...why, really, what happened...good or bad...and that corner of our minds that we find so hard to visit to see, to feel. There's always some mystery about ourselves and others that is not ponderable. Excellent write, Chaz..per usual!
ReplyDeleteI find it hard to go for a walk and not come back with a poem. :) This is very lovely, and thought-provoking.
ReplyDelete(I must say, to an Aussie, the idea of grilling brats was a bit confronting! But I'm guessing you didn't mean children.)
I'm smiling. I just read the previous comment.
ReplyDeleteI see your poem as a beautiful reflection of what your life has been. Taking as much responsibility for your actions as possible, in a world where we don't always know the full consequences of our acts. Your writing is so thought-provoking and it has an intensity that makes it so compelling.
The sense of loss to me was so complete, echoed in the hollow sound of the bullfrog, and the feeble firefly-light of the narrator's hopes. There may be a subtle ledge that affords salvation from the abyss, but those final lines leave the uncertainty unresolved, the narrator still standing himself at the edge of the cliff.
ReplyDelete