For the (fictional) series, "Edges"
Her Voice
Turning My Back
Her Voice
Turning My Back
The burden of solitude can become
habit, then preference, then pleasure.
Is it even possible to regurgitate
old words of connection long unused?
We'd need to learn each other
all over again – and not as before.
He seems earthy, savoury: basic and useful as
a root vegetable. A potato, perhaps, or a turnip.
Yet he reminds me too of mahogany, coated
protectively with beeswax and turpentine.
I, on the other hand, could use a refurbish,
a polishing up. I feel raw, almost crude.
Whereas he has a burnish. How is this old man
able to gleam like that? (Despite ropey arms, grizzled hair.)
I am more like a saggy couch, I think, if we're furniture –
faded, and probably not even comfortable any more.
Fear is a spur, turning me sharply aside from this ... what?
Opportunity? I distrust fairy tales and happy endings.
Yes, a strange coincidence, to meet here of all places.
But I'm spurning, not buying it. It's been far too long.
Sharing with Poets United's Poetry Pantry #419
Sharing with Poets United's Poetry Pantry #419
I resonate with the lines about solitude being habit, then preferance, then pleasure. Certainly is for me. I like the story told in this poem. It could be me you are writing about.......LOVE the part about the couch! Smiles.
ReplyDeleteYes, there is something about solitude. It tends to grow on a person! I like the comparison to a root vegetable....down to earth and basic. There is something about saggy couches. Not even comfortable any more, but they do hold memories.
ReplyDeleteI like the comparisons with root vegetables and mahogany, they definitely taste and smell of earthiness. I too feel like a saggy couch!
ReplyDelete"The burden of solitude can become habit, then preference, then pleasure"... sigh I so resonate with these lines, Rosemary!💞 There is a certain kind of allure about having our own space .. where we reflect and grow 😊
ReplyDeleteI love the wry humour that threads through this wonderful piece
ReplyDeleteWhen anything becomes routine (including solitude), it becomes hard to change. Humans tend to resist change to routine, being quite clever coming up with reasons to keep things the way they are.
ReplyDeleteReally enjoyed this -- Time sends us deep and deeper into ourselves, and coming up and out for another is work. The labor is clear here in this poem, it's like giving birth. Only we can choose whether to emerge, flee or go back under ... Good luck (however the wheel turns) and keep writing it down!
ReplyDeleteThis one's not autobiographical – but I'm glad it's so convincing.
DeletePerhaps, a rocking chair would be better as there is always movement even in the solitude of ones surroundings. Especially, a rocker outside on a porch soaking in sunshine. It makes one feel alive. Sometimes one needs to venture outside the normal boundaries.
ReplyDeleteI love and relate to this. Old couch, old world of connections long unused... Isolation to me is like sugar. Sweet and I love it but too long and it can be unhealthy.
ReplyDeleteI love this... and I could feel it deep, the fear of a chance, and the comfort of loneliness. Really worked for me.
ReplyDeletei like the humour in this poem. i smile at the comparison to a saggy couch. perhaps it's true really, when one reaches a certain age. :)
ReplyDeleteComfy and couch. Alone and loving it. This is where your poem transported me
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday Rosemary
Much🌻💛🌺love
That turn at the end! I wanted to say, no, wait, don't walk off. :) As others have said, the beginning was resonant.
ReplyDeleteOh how I love this! I love my solitutde. And him like mahogany. Mahogany is old and hard and polished. I don't know if you are like a saggy couch. More like a cushioned porch rocker. I know I am like a porch rocker without the cushions. I love to get my porch rocker going, wide back and forths likes swinging higher. I so enjoyed this piece filled with wit, even if it is't autobiographical.
ReplyDeleteThis is just wonderful! I love the way that you have hung your observations (that I thought were delightful and stunning and droll) and ruminations (also delightful and stunning and droll) from the - insightful and wise - opening couplet. Love it … love it … love it!
ReplyDeleteHa...an uncomfortable saggy couch is a bit harsh on yourself methinks. Old geysers don't gleam....specsavers for you:)
ReplyDeleteWell, in the rest of the series he has been painted as a very outdoorsy type; perhaps he has a good tan, lol. Or perhaps she is, even at this juncture, more partial than she believes herself to be.
DeleteSolitude when chosen is very different when it's not. It does grow on a person.
ReplyDelete