When I was young, I learned the art of
decisions made with wishbones.
A living heart had informed them
with a love of yellow corn and a fear of silver hatchets.
I came out of my shell one night during
a traffic accident like waking during surgery.
Wrecked Chevies turn shy as little girls
but their drivers find illumination in oil and blood and pavement.
Jail and church are cousins and I found
in one what had eluded me in the other.
That morning they returned my effects.
A crow had nested inside my leather satchel like swag from limbo.
Why bring all of this up? Why now, when
October is just a penny on the railroad track
shiny and done with, like an old flame?
I guess I'm just telling how I got here, the whole swerve of my life.
Living alone takes nerve, more than I ever had young.
Magic never gets the laundry done, or the
chicken fried, but I have it in spades these
rainy days, when my hawk-heart feels the wishbone
and I wonder what it will tell about me, how it will split
between sweetheart and shrew, drunk and duena,
all the spilled tiles and tears that depicted my face,
the one I wore while here, doing the best I could, grandmother and memory.
________
for Word Garden Word List--She Had Some Horses
Music: Katey Sagal Bird On The Wire.
Wow. "I'm just telling how I got here" - and what a journey made! As always, your images are astonishing: the crow inside the satchel, "October is just a penny on the railroad track", the hawk-heart and wishbone, and that wonderful closing line, "doing the best I could, grandmother and memory." A poem that goes deep into the heart of the reader, who recognizes the territory.
ReplyDeleteLiving does indeed take nerve - I hope it came to her...but I am sure is is strong and will continue to find magic - what wonderfully immersive story/poem..I love how motifs are echoed in all your work (the crows sprang out) - and thank you for your kind words at mine I will check out the song you mentioned - Jae
ReplyDeleteWow, this is a wonderful poem. I am thoroughly impressed by how you wove all of the words together. I especially liked 'jail and church are cousins, and gosh, I never thought about that before....but that rings true to me. And so true that magic never gets the laundry done. Abracadabra never worked for me either. And I too used to break wishbones! Smiles.
ReplyDeleteThis is perfect. A "wow" again from me.
ReplyDeleteI read this yesterday but lost my comment to the interwebbian void. A second reading still hits with the same flurry, like cold snow on your face when you leave the warm house--surprisingly, almost shockingly alive. I also have struggled with Harjo, whom I do like more than Billy Collins, but neither has the heart or soul that this poem has. I especially like "..A crow had nested inside my leather satchel like swag from limbo...." A fine, fine poem, Shay, and it gives us a bit of reality that manages to glow with the internal light of the heart, the imagination, which is the best poetry can hope for.
ReplyDelete"I wonder what it will tell about me" --- a more poignant phrase was never uttered in the context of the images/events before and after, couched like a "crow had nested inside my leather satchel like swag from limbo." What struck me is the remove of the persona from herself, as if she's looking at her life from a distance, assessing, weighing, wondering. And the wonder reaches a climax with the last two gorgeous, EXTRAORDINARY lines, culminating in "grandmother and memory." Grandmother. Memory. Both in one body with the capacity for both, hope and trauma. The past and the future unresolved but borne, capably. Just because of "magic in spades." Praise God!
ReplyDeleteThis is poetic writing of the reality of a life, the harsh, the heart, the how I got where I am part. There are way too many beautiful lines for me to choose one. You are one of my favorite poets.
ReplyDeleteOne of the things that amazes me with your poetry Shay, is that you can take us on a span of years through life so effortlessly with imagery that thieves would steal if they only could and sell for millions! Simply spectacular writing as always my friend! I can second what Susie said, you are one of my favorite poets indeed!!!
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