Eh, not me either. The well’s gone dry, so to speak. Then again, maybe my silence is a sort of PTSD reaction to the two memorial services I attended last week. Plus the loads of bad news that Keeps. On. Ticking like that damn Energizer bunny.Seems everyone’s got it bad -- death, illness, lay offs, depression. Me, I’m actually having a decent spot of stasis with kids/hubbers/work/class (knock on wood). But so many people I love are having a tough go and my heart aches.
I managed to riff off this little poem over the weekend. One way to work out the sadness. First new writing other than a paper for class in weeks…
APPLE CAKE
Today I baked an apple cake
three apples firm, not bruised.
New crop apples,
you would say, better
for eating out-of-hand,
but all I had in stock.
It is the dice of apples
that makes the cake,
too small and sauce;
too large, teeth break.
You supervise even now,
your admonishments louder
than the radio’s bray.
Flour sifts, ghost veils,
brown sugar churns
with butter, nuts cracked
for crunch, bones
of the cake. Collected,
the cake settles into
its greased glass coffin.
Cinnamon reminds me
of that mountain afternoon,
walking through sweet hay
fields to the orchards, fallow
then and frost-bitten.
Wizened fruits hung still
in cider-spiked air.
We carted our rare prizes
in brown burlap, bundled
in your lap, at your feet.
The truck bounced down
the rocky hillside,
and we laughed.
Later, with apple ache
rounding our bellies,
I cut into the cake
still warm, vanilla ice
puddling on your plate.
I wish grace to Cathy. Rose. Renee. Lynne. Becky. Henry. Your losses are mine, I wish I could shoulder them fully. Peace…
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I know very well this dry spell of which you speak. Still, this poem is beautiful, and touches all the senses, the way a good poem should.
ReplyDeleteIt will come.
Sorry to hear of the pain surrounding you and your loved ones Linda. Loss, whether it is death, divorce, or health, is always the hardest because it takes a piece of us, and the hole it leaves behind is difficult to fill. But beautiful writing, cinnamon and apples is a really good start.
ReplyDeletePeace back to you!
Nothing wrong with just sitting back a while. I think we put ourselves under a lot of undue pressure to write. Other people's lives affect just as much as our own. :)
ReplyDeleteApple cake! Oh, now you're talking sexy!
ReplyDelete(Sorry, diet delirium going on there...)
Like Laurita, I've been having my own dry spell but today, miraculous wonderful today, I wrote down a new chapter in my novel... could you hear the woots down there? Or were you, perchance, too busy making apple cake?
Hugs to you, dear Linda! Now, pass the ice cream to go with!
Deaths and memorials can take a lot out of a body, and even more out of a mind. Leave it to you to claim to have no words and then show up with a poem, Linda. Hope you come through this patch alright.
ReplyDeleteYou're making me hungry. And I, too, understand the dry spell. It's hard to break free sometimes. Keep on writing, though. Even the small stuff can surprise you later.
ReplyDelete