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....


Thursday 20 December 2012

Writers' group: Hebe

She's like some cousin
I never knew I had.
Indeed, in my youth,
unsuspected cousins migrated
from her land to mine.

The Anglo-Indian connection
Mum kept secret.
Her father's Scottish complexion
allowed that, and my Dad's
English heritage.

The dark I longed for
died with Nana, she
more Indian than Anglo;
that warmth....
Hebe arrives –

childhood stories
that might have been mine
had the family stayed
there: not Tasmania.
And, that warmth.

[Poem #99]
at
Labels: , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Comments are moderated and will appear after being approved by the blog owner. If you can only comment anonymously, please include your name in the comment, just so I know who's talking to me.

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)