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learning: flesh and floorboards
by Rachelle Howei've memorized your feel,
your sounds,
like the old oak floorboards
that used to creek beneath
my naked footsteps.
there were grains, my sweet darling,
so many, and i would slide
when socks were the thing.
my hands had studied you,
you were my history, my
learning tool, my tutor.
you taught me well.
you birthed in me
all the things that books
could not sacrifice.
knowledge and hunger
for which my limbs
and fingers
could never be satiated. 11/16/2003 Author's Note: not a clue. not one.
Posted on 11/17/2003
Copyright © 2025 Rachelle Howe
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Leslie Ann Eisenberg on 11/17/03 at 05:41 AM there were grains, my sweet darling,
so many, and i would slide
when socks were the thing.
great line!! a wonderful, ironic, childlike image.
wonderful title and luscious words.
floorboards, flesh, creak.. |
| Posted by Lori Johnson on 11/17/03 at 09:58 PM Oooh la la! LOL
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| Posted by Don Coffman on 11/21/03 at 08:31 AM What is it about a bare wooden floor and little cracks on old walls that give such a familiar comfort with their creaks and patterns? I say that because this poem makes me think of all those times I spent with friends and loves, the niftiest of whom always managed to live in places like that. It's something very warm, very familiar, and very happy to remember. They've had a big impact on life, and you are such a talented soul to catch that feeling like this.
(whee, I sound sappy now) |
| Posted by Quinlan L Gibson on 11/21/03 at 03:19 PM hmmm, there's something to this...i know there is, it sure keeps you intrigued...nice job! |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 11/21/03 at 07:29 PM Ahhh, to know someone so thouroughly that their geography is well mapped in the your atlas of ecstasy... great read. |
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