Ten Glimpses of Home
1. that safe place
of solace and solitude
where all my things are laid
2. that place I couldn’t enter,
every door barred or locked
or pinned with signs,
“Keep Out”
3. that place where family smiled,
polite conversation, knives and
forks held just so,
no elbows on the table
4. that place full people,
noise and smoke
where only half the bed
belonged to me
5. that place I found
each time I set down my bags,
unpacked shampoo, toothbrush,
my box of earrings
6. that place my son created
when he unfurled his soft spine
and opened his palms to the world
7. that place that didn’t matter
until I stood with him
at the river’s edge
“This is the best world,” he said
8. that place I resurrected,
painted, hammered, nailed and
insisted on
9. that place where he sprawls beside me,
tells me how to survive
a zombie invasion
and how having a girlfriend is lame
10. that place I love
but could leave tomorrow,
sun on my elbow,
tears in the wind
– published in Being Unquiet Anthology by Piquant Press, 2011
I love #6. A vision a mother understands.
I like them all. Don’t tell James, but I think I’m coming around to this whole poetry that doesn’t rhyme.
Great work again, Deepam!
I love this gently undulating poem Deepam and hope to get more opportunities to enjoy your poetry. The writer’s work is an extension of themselves and this is extremely clear in this beautiful work.
Yeah. Number 6 is absolutely beautiful… and I’m not even a mother. Great imagery.