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Amber Afternoon
by Maureen GlaudeWasnt until afternoon
that the tears found their way
to surface in my eyes.
Sorrowd already frozen
my body
since the awakening hours
consumed by the crisis of
doors slamming on hope
and support, soon after
the re-opening.
Made me think of storm doors,
this used to be the time of year for those
but they were made redundant
by modern siding and materials.
Always thought the term sounded
like a sailing vessels gear
to prepare for pending gales.
Sadness, my habitual response
to disappointment,
wins over anger again.
Anger appeals as an easier release
dramatic but demanding animosity
Id regret.
By the backyard pond I stand
and wonder why so fine a day
in November now?
A golden brush upon the leaves
that fell last month to lie
in wait for ice to form
upon the surface landing strip,
makes a mosaic art piece-in-progress.
A mellow afternoon
a lighter-jacket day
after the bitter winds
and rains of the thirty-first.
I know my smiles
must hibernate as I
heal yet again.
How to face the fish bowl
of existence, open up to a world
where no-one ever knows another to
the core or knows better
which path is the true one
which approach the wiser,
where virtue may rise up
as the sun slides back behind
a steel cloud?
I return to the house
to the bedroom
to lie down
and wait with grace
for the tears
beneath the ice
inside of me
to surface. 11/05/2001
Author's Note: a repost
Posted on 12/28/2006
Copyright © 2024 Maureen Glaude
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/28/06 at 03:46 PM Good to read this again Maureen. I did look for it in your various folders the other day. Text well reflective of its title, and it's nice to see you've come so far since that dark day in November five years ago. |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 12/29/06 at 10:21 AM I like the doors in this poem, the "storm doors" and the paced discussion of that and of the emotional reactions involved throughout. Also pwerful is the element of water--/ice/ tears.
The progression of ice forming and the "surface" of things is fantastic in this poem. The beginning answers the end--that is when we know-- when what you are lying "in grace" "waiting for" happens! The ending is wonderful--the last stanza is lyrical and linguistically poised. And the concept that the tears are beneath the ice--not a melting of the ice--they surface (like fish)! In "fish bowl of life" -- (tear drops are rather fish shaped in fact!). There is a lot of original imagery and carefully constructed connections that flow through this work-- and yet-- it is very emotional--quite a wonderful combination! |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 12/30/06 at 03:19 AM Heartbreak on several levels here I think. A tension between deep hurt and the desire to be free of emotional pain. Emotional pain can be as real as physical pain. Dealing with it may sometimes be more difficult. This is all said to me in this very heartrending poem. |
| Posted by Christel Crews on 12/31/06 at 12:04 AM oh what a wonderful piece! you have such a way with words in this that just pulls me along.. maybe because i can empathize and maybe because your imagery is picture perfect. that last stanza is a zinger! |
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