sitting in the kitchen
crouching by the coal fire
hands quite warm
back quite cold
checking the windows
peeling back the curtains
blackout curtains
frayed and old
looking at raindrops
sliding down the windows
chill greasy raindrops
grey and cold

wondering who wants me
wondering who loves me
wanting my teddy bear
longing for my pussy cat
wanting my little dog
longing for his tail wag
so much missing
my nose so cold

now I am seventy
everything has changed
changed town and country
changed clime and weather
everything is different
nothing is the same
longing for my childhood
longing for my home land
watching the ocean
that comes rolling in

ocean of waters
ocean of memories
ocean of people
now long departed

Comment: Rhythm is everything here. I have just re-read The Sing-song of Old Man Kangaroo from Just So Stories (Rudyard Kipling). My mum and dad gave me copy when I was seven years old. Did they really think I could read it and understand it at that age? Whatever! The rhythms have stayed with me all my life and today I tried to reproduce them. My soul and my fingers danced as I thought of old man kangaroo and how he lost so much to gain so much. And what of the Elephant’s Child with his insatiable curiosity? I lost so much when I came here to Canada but I gained so much from this wonderful country. I tore my world apart then put it back together. How to explain it? It may not be explicable.

7 thoughts on “Forget-me-not

      • Yes I do empathise. The poets we encounter have a permanent and profound influence on us. I also empathise with your being so torn apart at your relocation, having experienced similar in my own life. “Dépaysé” is how Camus terms it. “Third culture kid” is another description, neither here nor there in other words. However a life of counting one’s blessings is a truly blessed life.

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      • Interesting: desarraigada is the same idea in Spanish. It came into favor after the Spanish Civil War when the intellectual generation was all uprooted / desarraigada. Camus is one of my favorite authors, incidentally.

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      • Oh how interesting. Yes I can see the same notion in the Spanish. You may know that Camus is currently one of the most read authors, incidentally. I did a 60.000 word thesis on Camus “un pauvre homme amoureux du soleil” some years ago. Like him I’ve also mooched about the Sahara puffing on noxious Gauloises pondering the meaning of life. Thankfully the Gauloises are now a thing of the past for me, along with the existentialism that troubled my earlier years…😊

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