Thursday, January 1, 2009

that feeling

when she was small she was
haunted by the image of
an adult male, faceless but a warm
presence, coming to the door arms
loaded with groceries, voice warm
body warm, and her mother
would smile and laugh then, looking
ten years younger around the eyes
and he would stay

he would stay, so she knew
as she got older that he

could not have been real

she used to slash but now she
gets inked instead, a rose garden
growing slowly up one sleeve, across
her back and down the other arm

it’s a slow flaying but the sensation
almost does the trick

Rachel Westfall
January 1, 2009


Anna Lefler said...

This is beautiful...and so very sad.

Happy New Year...

~ A.

RachelW said...

It's one of those moody sorts of poems. Times like that, I need to visit blogs like yours so I can have a good chuckle, Anna!

Julie said...

Rachel, this is so powerful. I am haunted by the image of the "rose garden growing slowly up one sleeve, across/her back and down the other arm." Excellent and powerful. Yes, it is beautiful.

Thank you so much for your kind comments. It has been a difficult time, and meeting you and reading your work has been one of the good things in the world that keeps me going. There is so much beauty in this blog. I thought I had linked you, but I don't see it. Will do that now.

Your poems are excellent. Do you send them out? I will read further to find out:) I hope you have a beautiful new year with many good things to come.

RachelW said...

Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Julie! I'm also delighted to have found your blog. Writing like yours nourishes my soul. And I sure hope your troubles are easing.

As for these poems-- I've always got an eye open for a permanent home for clumps of them. Some I've published in the Mother Magazine, but most are unpublished. I'm going to start getting better at homing them, I swear-- having this blog is an improvement over having them hiding in a notebook somewhere, but some of them still feel a bit like orphans.

Anonymous said...

perfect! I was the little girl, and now as a woman, my garden too grows, a glacial flayling

RachelW said...

Gameover, I have live parts of this too, though it was a friend's story (and photos of her own rose garden sleeve) that inspired the poem. I think it may be one of those things that's hard to touch but also hard to leave alone.

Poetikat said...! Really something, this one. Everything buried.


RachelW said...

Thanks Kat. It helps me to re-read what I have written, too!

Elle said...

I relate all too well to one stanza in particular. How sad life can be. Your writing is amazing.

RachelW said...

Elle; thank you!