every evening after supper. In the summer
there was commotion outside. People visited with neighbors
sitting on their stoops to talk about the day,
work at the factory, their bosses, their pay,
or whose kid ran away, who died, who's moving away.
This was inner city entertainment I could understand.
But in the winter, the street was a tomb -
still, silent, dark, except for the occasional passing
car or pedestrian rushing to get home, the leafless tree
shivering naked, standing in the cold and the wind pushing
some debris or snow. My grandfather sat watching as if the window
was the stage for a show whose art only he could see.
This, to me, was incomprehensible.
I think of him sometimes when I stand by my own window,
looking in.
such a harsh contrast.. and a wonderful memory.
ReplyDeleteAnd just maybe it was a moment like this he was waiting for... love the contemplation here Myrna.
ReplyDeleteYou know, I think a lot of older (much older than us - smiles) people do that. They sit and look out the window...perhaps lost in their thoughts. I always enjoy reading your poetry, Myrna, as you write REAL life as it is. And often I can identify with it. I remember my mother sitting, just sitting, early morning. Thinking, I know. About what, I don't know.
ReplyDeleteThat was a solemn but beautiful piece, I am sure you have fond memories of him. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteAn intense imagery catering to both.. the summer and winter part of the poem.. written quite magnificently..! :)
ReplyDeleteI adored the part where lines are:
I think of him sometimes when I stand by my own window,
looking in.
Both my grandfathers died when I was too young. Don't really remember much about them. Glad you have memories to cherish :)
Love,
Sanaa
How I love this glimpse into the windows to your heart.
ReplyDeleteI can see him there, watching what was, for him, his tv...........I am a big fan of sitting by windows myself! Interesting ending with you standing outside looking in!!!!
ReplyDeleteThis is just a wonderful perspective piece--full of memory
ReplyDeleteI can relate with the street being a tomb during winter ~ Maybe your grandfather is thinking and playing with his past memories ~ I hope that when I am older, I would still be writing and keep myself busy ~ Nothing wrong though with looking in, from time to time, smiles ~
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the way yu made us see your grandfather and then how you expressed the contrast between him and you,
ReplyDeleteOh touches my heart Myrna. Yes the difference of the summer visiting amongst neighbors and the tomb like feeling in winter...your grandfather had it right...a wonderful stage to watch the life around him.
ReplyDeleteThis description, "sat watching as if the window
ReplyDeletewas the stage for a show whose art only he could see" gives the reader such a vivid glimpse into who your grandfather was that we feel like we knew him, too. Very personal. Thanks for sharing such a heartfelt piece of who he was.
"looking in"... you changed it all with that twist. Very enjoyable.
ReplyDeleteA full circle of thought processed by the window..a quiet moment gracefully shared
ReplyDeleteOne can sit and wonder by the window and still enjoy quiet moments. But you brought it a level higher with the contrasting effects! Love it Myrna!
ReplyDeleteHank
the window has a double role...either you look out or look in...I love the contrasting images so beautifully set here...
ReplyDeleteI know I'm going to read something beautiful when I come for a visit, Myrna :) I used to love watching my grandparents when they were in their own worlds. This actually made me think of my great grandparents (maternal). I was really close with them growing up. It's a blessing to have had them in my life for as along as I did. We can learn so much from our elders :)
ReplyDeleteMyrna,
ReplyDeleteAs with Sumana's comment, I'm thinking the same way...I liked your grandfather's ways of being occupied in the long brighter days, outside. I have memories of my own grandfather sitting outside on his window-sill, talking with friends until very late into the evening...In winter, it was transferred indoors!!
Eileen
Beautiful! Looking out the window was his meditation...
ReplyDeleteThere's nothing wrong with it, Myrna. I think grandpa was seeing things in front of him. Life is a stage after all. A contemplation
ReplyDeleteSo evocative...how much they could understand just by looking...x
ReplyDeleteI think he enjoyed people watching..looking out on the stage of life. There is a sense of calmness when we gaze out the window.
ReplyDelete