Today it is the once a fortnight when my cleaner comes
and I find myself telling him who I am: who I once was and still am,
although yesterday I wished he wouldn’t get here quite so early.
As I write, I decide after all not to request a change of time / person.
I find myself telling him I’m a performance poet, a healer, a witch.
When I was younger I didn’t tell anyone those things; I was afraid.
As I write, I decide not to request a change of time or person.
(I couldn’t have known this rapport would suddenly flourish.)
When I was younger, I didn’t tell anyone such things; I was afraid …
Anyway, I want to learn more about his time as a circus clown.
How could I have known this rapport would suddenly flourish?
(I had a dream, myself, for years, of being a trapeze artist, flying.)
Anyway, I want to hear more of his time as a circus clown –
although yesterday I was wishing he wouldn’t arrive quite so early.
I dreamed, myself, for years, of being a trapeze artist, flying ...
Today is the once in forever when my cleaner and I share stories.
Written in response to a prompt from Pádraig Ó Tuama from Poetry Unbound: What time is it? (It's pantoum time)
(His instructions don't include the traditional pantoum rhyming –
or any rhyming.)
Sharing with Poets and Storytellers United for Friday Writings #229
(off prompt in that context).
Lovely. Share stories indeed - but not too early!
ReplyDeleteAh yes, best to wait to get to know someone a bit first.
DeleteExcellent pantoum, Rosemary 👏 The line about telling someone about who you were and still are, reminds me of the Mitch Hedberg joke - 'I used to take drugs. I still do, but I used to too."
ReplyDeleteThank you and LOL.
DeleteA gentle, moving piece I love how in this poem the moment circles back with deeper meaning each time. And yes, I think it is an age thing as well to be able to not care so much anymore what others think and just be yourself.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Marja. We get more perspective, I think, as we age, and realise what things do and don't matter.
DeleteThis is a hard form and how easily you wrote it and told that story!! Incredible skill!!
ReplyDeleteThank you for these kind words!
DeleteI loved your pushing your past. I was looking for your volunteering to teach prisoners . We all apresheated reading of that.
ReplyDeleteThank you, my friend. The next memoir is going slower, but hopefully will get done before we all kick the proverbial bucket.
DeleteI too liked "Easy Rider" and liked the actors and their families .
Delete"Those were the days my friend, we thought they'd never end . .."
*Smile.*
Deletethere comes a stage in life when we care less about the society ...maybe because we expect less, we let go of the guards!
ReplyDeletenice poem.
Yes, something like that.
DeleteA great write, Rosemary! This is not an easy form. I also would have wanted to dive into the "Circus Clown" stories! Cheers!
ReplyDeleteThank you. (We did have to remember he was there to do a job and cut it short.lol.)
DeleteI love the format of this poem. We do building strange rapport with the most unlikeliest person.
ReplyDeleteThe pantoum is a lovely form.
DeleteAnd yes, so we do.
A lovely use of the pantoum! I love all the sharing.
ReplyDeleteThank you. It was a very nice thing to happen.
Delete