Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Yellow Pears


                                          she lived in an old black van

                                          at the edge of her grandmother's woods

                                          long black hair / voice the sound of damp earth ... chippewa
                                                              
                                          she gave us yellow pears / my sister and me

                                          we sat quietly / legs dangling ... juice dripping from our chins

                                          I was five years old

                 
                                                                                             
                                                                                                                       




My reading of this poem on public radio: http://www.kaxe.org/Audiobox/Beat/KAXE_Beat_2014_07_14_TEvangeline_YellowPears.mp3

8 comments:

  1. Dear Teresa, the photograph is so poignant. It reminds me of children everywhere who are caught up in the castles of their minds. And your poem once again captures--like a photograph itself--a moment in time with all our senses involved. Peace.

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    1. Thank you for commenting, Dee. This is among my favorite memories. In that brief visit she showed me how I wanted to live the rest of my life ...

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  2. You have a great gift. Thanks for sharing it.
    Two things especially resonate with me in this wonderful poem: "yellow" and "juice dripping from our chins."
    I'm eating a lot of pears these days, of course. This is the first year I've ever picked them green and ripened them off the tree (as I reckon you're supposed to do with European pears). I look at them in our basement and when they're yellow I eat them, and the juice drips from my chin. When I read this poem my imagination fills in detail to the images you've beautifully suggested. But having biten into plenty of yellow pear and having the juice drip down my chin, those words require no imagination at all. :)

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    1. This memory is imprinted forever in my mind. I can still see it so clearly and feel the juice on my chin. Thanks so much for commenting, Bill.

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  3. Rich words that perfectly create images that we can all envision. A splendid memory!

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  4. A perfect memory indeed. Long lasting memories often times grow from the niceness of one person who shows sincere interest.
    We need more of this in this topsy-turvy world. Nice post Teresa. Thank you.

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    1. It's a clear demonstration of how one person can make all the difference ... thank you, Steven.

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