(Mama and me in Rio, December 1964)
I seem to be always reading or writing or working–doing, doing, doing. But sweetness of memory and poetry come in the non-doing, the quiet times, when we ponder and reflect. I took a rare moment to reminisce, on this leap year day, and make this poetic offering.
Bid Them Come When I Am Quiet
shall I sit here on the grass
under this old apple bough
and conjure some old memory—
as when I reclined propped and
pillowed in a wicker picnic basket
on Copacabana’s broad sands:
but that scene belongs to my Mother
who recounted it to me
her eyes still reflecting the Brazilian sea—
or when my friend snagged
his lure in my neck
on the dock at Lake Seneca
and I hollered good and loud
for the sting of fear
and a ruined afternoon of bass fishing—
perhaps that blue-sky day we stopped the car
on the way through Paraná to cut wild lemon grass,
its perfume lingering sweetly these long years—
I finally netted the elusive Red-spotted Purple,
and pinned its beauty to a board
where it never lived brightly—
we wandered through the meadow
with Mom to pick asparagus, and at home
picked the ticks off of us—
I felt happy to carry
my sister, who grew tired
on the hike to Sunfish Pond—
Copacabana Beach, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil (Image by ASSY from Pixabay)
Roger Baker is the author of Rabbit Lane: Memoir of a Country Road. The book tells the true life story of an obscure farm road and its power to transform the human heart. The book is available in print and for Kindle at Amazon. See Rabbit Lane reviewed in Words and Pictures.
Oh, Roger, you actually pinned a red spotted purple????? Oh dear!
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I know. I have repented a million times. I was wanting to capture beauty. Instead I killed it. Not all memories are happy, but they can all be instructive.
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