Lonesome Writer


She brought in the washing, stiff’n’clean,
Pealed off her gloves, hands cold’n’blue.
Heart-rending ritual, routine.
Tried the kettle, the gas – no reaction.
Sat at the table that held
A tower of hand washed, rigid arms’n’legs.
When did she lose satisfaction?
Tears slipped off frozen cheeks.
The door to the garden, wide open,
Gave a slight moan.
Her days spun into weeks.
She felt finished, washed up, alone.

She felled the tower
With one almighty swipe
Like a wildebeast flower.
Laughing at the absurd stiffness
Of entanglement spread across the floor,
A bodyless orgy, a snapshot of a riot
Interwoven confusion, still, quiet.
She began to thaw.

She pulled over the old broken typewriter,
It held a blank sheet.
She flexed her fingers
Stamped her feet,
Exhaled sharply, shook her face,
Threw back her hair
Drew up the chair
And typed …………………………......

Goodnight Darlings

Invisibl wrapping pap r,
Unfelt, unxpct d,
Slowly at first, building mom ntum,
Finally, with rapid visciousn ss,
Wrapp d up my lif ,
And my life was tak n away.
I saw non of it,
I didn’t d s rve to,
I’d m t som one.
Now som on ’s gon .
I must tak my punishm nt –
B cause my lif ’s gon too.
W re my childr n happy
As th y climb d or w re carri d
Onto th plan ?
Did h xplain what a whor was?
Did h t ll th m
They’d nev r se Mummy again?
Tw lve months,
Not ven a l tter.
Had a couple of mails,
When I had a comput r and pow r.
Said thy w r happy
Had n w fr inds.
A bitt r-swe t read
Bord ring on sour.
I still miss him as w ll,
Not his smugn ss
Or his squalid affairs,
But th nice mom nts
And ther w re a f w.
Memori s are fading fast.
How can thy not last?
A handfull of photographs,
Unmoving laughs.
Peopl t ll me it’s tim I moved on
But movem nt has gone
The way of dreams.

I still do their washing
Mak their b ds
And at b dtime
I stroke and kiss
Their tiny imaginary heads.

Sometimes your work moves me beyond my own powers of expression...... I'll resort to that old standby - WOW!

Love and Hugs,

Alice

wow - very powerful poem, Rusty! I'm sure every parent who's ever lost a child would identify with this one!
Amazed
Pam

Dear Rusty,
I love your style of surprise! Just when I think I am learning what your style is you come back with a new surprise, a new way of expressing yourself and your work. The way in which you present the mother's writing is extremely effective. Made me wish I thought of it!
Suzanne