Sunday, November 16, 2008

My Window



My window was broken.

The rain came in.

The things on my pantry shelves were ruined--

The sugar

The flour

The salt

And my kitchen grew so quiet and still.


I hadn't the heart to fix it.

I thought, I have somehow invited this rain,

This destruction;

So I became the rain

And wept.


Only my dreams still brought fine aromas

And comforting warmth.

In the dark, a woman said to me,

There is still honey

And peppermint candies,

There is still a morning

Dusted on my skin.


When I opened my eyes,

I put on the morning mist as if it were a silken robe.

I cleaned my stove until it shone,

And then went to lean in my window

Looking for the woman who needs my kiss,

Wants some breakfast,

And knows how to fix broken windows.

________________________________

22 comments:

TheWeyrd1 said...

nice...and I have noticed that it rains fairly often there in Austin...

Grace DeWitt said...

This was sad and romantic at the same time. What stood out to me the most were these verses, “I thought, I have somehow invited this rain, This destruction; So I became the rain And wept.”

They reminded me of how I sometimes feel when everything is going wrong or someone hurts me as if I somehow invited them to hurt me or the bad things to happen.

Tracey-Ann said...

At the beginning of your poem, your words expressed such a feeling of melancholy.

"I thought, I have somehow invited this rain,

This destruction;

So I became the rain

And wept."

That is such a soulful line
I like how you turned it around at the end and expressed a feeling of comfort and renewed hope.

I put on the morning mist as if it were a silken robe.

Lovely as always !

Fireblossom said...

Welcome to the Word Garden, Weyrd1. But that's not Austin. That's San Antonio in the header. ;-)

Me too, Grace, me too. But I am trying to change that. ;-)

Thanks, Tracey-Ann. A lot has been happening in my life behind the scenes, some of the plates are shifting. I put what I was feeling into this poem.

S.L. Corsua said...

"a morning dusted on my skin" is such a great line, Shay, well-done. I also liked the ending stanza -- the persona's reference to the woman and the kiss, breakfast, windows.

Cheers. ;)

CHEWY said...

Although the glass is transparent, it is a barrier. Perhaps it needed a break.

Shrinky said...

Times come when we all need to suffer a broken window, how else can we value the shelter of having it fixed again?

How, how, how do you do this? Shay girl, I'd give anything for just ONE ounce of the talent that you have. Are you published (outside of blogland)?

I am ripped between awe and envy.

Jannie said...

Fireblossom, Fireblossom, Fireblossom,

"So I became the rain and wept," "a morning dusted on my skin..." No pressure on you to create future brilliance, but lines like these are what drew me into Word Garden in the fist place and keep me coming back.

Thank you.

Fireblossom said...

Thank you, S.L., it's nice to see you back here again! :-)

Fireblossom said...

oOo, I like that comment, Chewy. Yeah. :-)

Fireblossom said...

I love that perspective, Shrinky. Plus I like the pleasant notion of that window put right. :-)

My word, gf, between you and Jannie, I'm going to get a swollen head! I do love the kind words, though, oh yes i do.

And to answer your question, I've been published. The first really decent poem I wrote, when I was 18, got published in a magazine called Speakeasy. They were eager to see more. There was no more, then, lol. But they took a really nice photograph to go with my poem, and it was the biggest kick to pull a copy off the newsstand and say "that's me!" Five years later I got published again, and in the next five years I got published several dozen times in publications which had readerships of about 15, and which quickly became defunct. Then I never really wrote poetry again until two years ago. Although my new work beats the stuffing out of my juvenalia, this is the only place to see it. I dream of publishing a book of my poems, though. Anyone know how?

(((((Shrinky)))))))))

Fireblossom said...

Funster, Funster, Funster,

I love ya. ya know? :-)

Cynthia said...

Oh, shayfire, you've just written
my prayer for winter, your mind
and emotions are beautiful.

Gillian said...

Hey Shay...!
I believe we must break in order to grow. To allow. This means you are undergoing some kind of transformation. You are right to become the rain...it will likely lead you to your window fixer. Metaphorically speaking of course.
Ever notice how dark it gets just before the dawn, as they say?
xo

Jannie said...

I love what Chewy said - maybe it needed a break. Yes indeed. Was teim to move on.

Beloved Dreamer said...

This is move then it seems. Flow of words and images are great. Well done my friend.

love-bd

Fireblossom said...

Cynthia, you always make me feel so nice when you comment. I'm pleased this poem resonated for you! (((((((((C))))))))))

Gillian, you are spot on, I am indeed going through a change. No, not THAT change LOL. And I hope you are right about my window fixer and I hope she is as nice as you are. :-)

Indeed, Tex, it was and it is.

Thank you, BD, I hope that youa re feeling better, and it is always a joy to see you here at the Word Garden. :-)

Snaggle Tooth said...

I can fix a broken window, but the putty stuff makes a mess...

Good work

Talon said...

"So I became the rain
And wept"

Those two lines are brilliant.

Talon

Fireblossom said...

Thank you, Snaggle and Talon. Welcome to The Word Garden!

Lil Bit said...

Beautiful. just beautiful.

Fireblossom said...

Fanks, girly. *smiles*