a poem about Ruby; what i mean is i can’t write a poem about Ruby


i may as well be floating, what i mean is drowning.
i want to write a poem about Ruby, my mother.
but I’ll have to use words and poets say words alone
can only be print, it is when they are supped by the reader
that they then become substance and sustenance for feelings.

i‘d have to be careful about being careful, she’s timid but certain.
say one wrong thing and i’d have to speak to it.
she’s simple, you know, in a complex way; she’d size you-up
in a minute, yet take a coon’s age to tell you.
wasn’t her place to tell you, she thought—and said..

i’d have to use words that can’t describe her without
a glimmer of what she meant and how she knew that
‘you boys be extra nice around aunt Floy, she’s different.’
i couldn’t throw a dart and hit it, but i knew what she meant.
later, aunt Floy began financially ruining my alzheimered uncle Ray.

i couldn’t find the word for the little ripple of joy
for an afternoon visit over a cup of coffee—already on.
i’d have to mention that joy shared equally with one
afternoon sloe-gin fizz…maybe it caused a broader smile
either brought a quicker smile than a noseful of clover buds in April.

she’d not want me to mention any hurtful times,
‘you ought not visit on that’ she’d say,
meaning any thing bad, she never knew she
could use the word negative, it was a 40 dollar word
and it was a rich person’s word, carried a lot of weight.

she’d say ‘charles, find you somethin’ else to write about.’
i might smile and say ‘what else?’, she’d say, ‘there’s plenty.’
of course i’d try but i still had to write one about her; you know
how she’s dad’s homing beacon, though he’s tempted on the road.
she made sure—unknowingly—that he knew where and what home was.

so i imagine one of these days i’ll write a poem about Ruby;
how she was 5 foot nothing but had a spirit as tall as Paul Bunyon.
today is already gone to the living buzzards scavenging my moments.
i’m going to wait until all the poets run out of rhyme
and then i’ll pounce on a poem about Ruby, but this isn’t it.

10/04/2006

Posted on 10/04/2006
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