Monday, May 10, 2010

Monday poem

yes, yes, I'm punching my ticket this time. Sorry to be such a sporadic commuter but sometimes I get excited about a theme and start making this grandiose poem and it goes way beyond Monday and most of those are in fact still cooking.

Um, the photo I landed on for my prompt absolutely does not want to copy itself here. But imagine this:
An old b&w from the U of Washington's archives, showing a party of picnicers in early 20th century dress getting out of a boat they have rowed to a flat beach somewhere. The lake is calm. The distant horizon is flat and wooded. They have brought a straight-backed chair.

After Mass

Used to be
of a Sunday afternoon we'd
all go boating on the lake
pack up the wicker baskets
with cold roasted chicken and deviled eggs and dainty finger pastries.
The hardy aunts would insist on rowing
aunts with proper hats on
decorated with ribbons and silk flowers

I tipped one of them hats in the lake once
got tanned for it!

Used to be they all laughed and talked and had a merry time
out there on the water
on Tucker island where we laid out a feast on blankets
the music of their voices filled the day
their stories and their debates

We kids were admonished to be silent and we jolly well were
until we hit that beach and could so screaming off to the interior
to fight our indian wars
and gather toads

Used to be you could just go out of a Sunday afternoon
be among folks, simply
Now it's always the tv, here in the Home
the grandkids hardly ever come, their hair dyed strange, driving some big car almost a tractor
don't say more than two words
never caught a toad in their life.


P Nolan is our driver this week - catch a ride here!


Niamh B said...

nice, lots of atmosphere, and I like the ending!

Rachel Fox said...

Now that is how to end a poem!

Tabor said...

I guess I am not a 'dit' whatever that is but the poem was charming and I could see the picnic and the rambunctious kids.

The Bug said...

Oh we have a toad living in our flower bed (I have a picture of him/her on my Saturday post).

Your poem reminds me of Sunday afternoons driving out to some land our church owned & playing softball in the red dirt & eating homemade ice cream... Very evocative.

the watercats said...

also love that end.. this whole poem has a very lovely atmosphere and imagery through it.. excellent!

Jeanne Iris said...


This poem is a delightful excursion through the past. Something everyone under the age of 25 should consider.

Ce poème est une charmante excursion dans le passé. tout le monde un peu moins de 25 ans devraient prendre en considération.

Argent said...

I love the 'voice' of this poem. I think you built it up really well so that I totally didn't see the rather poignant ending coming. Great stuff!

Titus said...

Really enjoyed this - in fact, almost got lost in it. Wonderfully imagined narrator, and loved the "hardy aunts" and the slight tone change when recalling actions as a child, especially.

"I tipped one of them hats in the lake once
got tanned for it!"

And agree with Rachel - great final line for a poem.
Shame about the photograph, but you took me there.

Anonymous said...

delightful and melancholy at the same time, beautifully told, the toads really make the story.
thanks for sharinbg

Pure Fiction said...

Really like this, Nanu. The whole sense times past, and how you bring it right back to the narrator at the end - good one.

Totalfeckineejit said...

I want to go to Tucker Island for a boozy dreamy summer's picnic. Love that ending.Toadylicious!

Dominic Rivron said...

Good one! And I really like the role of the toad.