Tiny woman.
Soft, full hair
beige blonde.
Seated at our table,
at first glance
looks fifty.
I think she's used to
no conversation;
responds when we begin.
We ask how long
she's been here.
'Do you know,' she says,
'I think it's four months ...
I can't be certain.'
Her son works
in the kitchen.
She can see him
sometimes.
Used to live
by water, misses
her house ... voice
trails wistfully,
eyes grow distant.
[Poem #93]
Cross-posted from my poetry blog: The Passionate Crone, where it was submitted for dVerse Open Link Night #49
This began as a game some bloggers played in 2008, to write about people who'd made an impact, in the same number of words as one's age, every day for a year. I did them less often and went on longer, adding one word each birthday. I stopped in 2016 and incorporated them into my main poetry blog. In 2019 I resumed the project and gave it its own blog again, with a new name, where it may unfold at its own (slow, intermittent) pace. I've labelled these verse portraits, but they're more like quick sketches: mere glimpses, impressions....
Comments from original posting:
ReplyDeleteClaudia 20 June 2012 at 07:36
oh you made me see her.. good that her son works there.. makes me so sad that she misses the water..seems she still sees it..
Brian Miller 20 June 2012 at 07:42
this makes me sad a bit...i think sometimes people get lost in that system...i am glad she gets to see her son...that is important...and i hope it is important to him...
Heaven 20 June 2012 at 08:15
Nice capture of her loneliness ~ At least her son is close by ~
Daydreamertoo 20 June 2012 at 08:17
Awww.... very sad for her to have to have given up a home she loved and have to live somewhere else. Yes, at least she gets to see her son. I hope that helps her somewhat.
Laurie Kolp 20 June 2012 at 08:28
Makes you wonder why she's there at fifty... very mysterious, intriguing... just like her!
Rosemary Nissen-Wade 20 June 2012 at 08:45
Laurie, she was more likely 70, only looked 50 at first glance because so well preserved and well groomed.
Rosemary Nissen-Wade20 June 2012 at 08:28
She was sad, and trying to make the best of it.
Mary 20 June 2012 at 10:17
I couldn't find the main comment box, oddly enough. So I will comment here. Very sad. I've known people like this too. I guess we have to accept what life brings us, hoping that whatever it brings us we can bear!
hedgewitch 20 June 2012 at 09:26
Who knows what shores age will wash us up on? An excellent portrait of this woman.
Beachanny 20 June 2012 at 10:47
A perfect character capture. It's heartbreaking to think that we (women, usually) wind up alone, without keeping our strength, our memory, our talents in tact. But your portrait is a charitable one and with the son nearby gives a measure of hope.
C Rose 20 June 2012 at 13:10
you pulled this image tightly together with a expedient pace...wonderful write ~ Rose
Ravenblack 20 June 2012 at 14:25
There's a sad sense of lost. Excellent portrait. Especially well-portrayed the way she talks, the words drift off like that, into the eyes that seem to see back into a distant memory.
Rosemary Nissen-Wade 22 June 2012 at 19:37
Thanks to you all for your kind comments. I'm glad I succeeded in portraying her.