jeudi 11 décembre 2008

The Futility of Tears

My mother told me that

she sometimes has
flashbacks in the shower,
but now she simply shouts
"Get thee behind me!"

Her mother taught her
not to cry at funerals:
at her husband's, she was
drunk and obnoxious
until my mother socked her.

I'm still crying as I
watch Bambi with my
grandson. He's put
his arm around my shoulder
and he's patting me,

His little hand taps
a smile through
my tears, our eyes
connect in a strange dance
of familial empathy.

6 commentaires:

enudelman a dit…

beautiful poem, Laura; generations of laughter and tears

Barbary Chaapel a dit…


A close view of famial love and angst. Like all your poetry, I love it.


Moineau En France a dit…

barbary, dahlink, you got stuck (or rather your comment)! i'm so glad. this poem almost tore my heart out, barb. how we hand down our sorrow!

have a wonderful day today. we're bucklin' down for our big winter storm. last year it was the oregon coast's first hurricane. xoxoxox

moigo a dit…

Love your poem, Laura. I guess you mean the title ironically. Tears bring the world to your aid. They're such a beautiful signalling system and strong emotions cannot be denied. Without tears they could make a drunk of anyone. Children have not yet learned to thwart the process or judge it.

Moineau En France a dit…

yes indeed, dear friend, i did mean it ironically, it is certainly better than terror, violence and cruelty! you have such keen insight. xoxoxox

Mary Stebbins Taitt a dit…

very sensitive. Connected!