Crucible

What scene did she make?
The one we can’t
cut her out of
but not
It’s a Wonderful Life
a story written by
others
An orphan
she married the musician
artist and writer
Escaped into his script

He took work in the foundry
Forged a family
Kissed her with
factory blistered lips
Caressed her
with calloused hands
Sang her songs
Wrote her poems
After their day jobs
had captive all-nighter
utopian longings

Two roads converged
Their children grew confused
ignored
and tossed between
his creative soaring heart
and smouldering rage
against The Man
Unpublished work
engraved his closed walls
His genius wrapped in a shroud
of secrets and poverty
She began plying peace
at any price
Weary of schemes

Then left
and she could breathe
Found the right words
Heard
her children’s dreams
Saw their gold
cast pure and radiant
Told her amazed
new literary friends
who asked her
What scene did you make?
Being no martyr no hero
in that bed she’d made
simply said
I should have made one

 

children waves

Photos courtesy Flickr Creative Commons (top by Lance Cheung, bottom by Giuseppe Tripodi)

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7 thoughts on “Crucible

  1. I have come back a few times to this poem. The idea of dreams deferred is a powerful thought, especially as we age, for we have years of recollections. Deferral is an complex construct, for it suggests that we can embrace the dream – it is still there for us to pursue. The choice is before us. The best part is that we have the benefit of all of the past memories – both good and not so good so give depth and breadth to the journey ahead. Deferrals and choices. Ah, what a profound duet.

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