Evening Sounds Push Back Time
Dusk murmurs heard next door,
down the street,
across the park:
My neighbor crosses over the driveway
asking ‘how is Sarah getting along?’
(My daughter, due in two months.)
I tell ‘she’s fine, getting a little uncomfortable,
but feels good still.’
This time, I hear my grandmother, Sarah,
call “yoo hoo, Mrs. Judy, how are your tomatoes doing?
Mine are not looking so well this year. Lots of bugs, I think.”
Later, across the park, it’s “come home, Charlie, come home.
It’s getting dark out,
time for bath,
time for bed,
time for stories.”
“Linda, Linda, are you up in that tree? It’s really
too dark for you to be climbing still. Come home now. Is that
Alice with you? Alice May, you get on home now. Your momma’ll
be worried to death.”
My husband clinks away the rake, the shovels.
The broom whispers across the porch, my hands
or my mother’s, final work of today?
Mom, come in, come in to visit a while.
I hear you sweeping on the porch,
at last light,
as I turn the pages of my book.
Wonderful images and memories in this poem, Linda. Takes me back to when I was a girl at home....ReplyDelete
Linda, I really love this poem. I love the way the time shifts with memory and the way both present and past are alive in this string of moments.ReplyDelete