Hi Ryfkah,
This is great! The style, the content, the repetitions, the force and energy
of it! It sizzles.
I'm mulling over the significances of lilac trees and sprigs, tho... because
I can get, as I read it, the impression at the end, that your lilac tree is
identical to your mother's tree... and that could make the very last
statement of the poem carry loads with contradictions. If that's your
intention then that's OK.
And the statement near the end "I know someone now..." makes me wonder who
it is you know! I could be tempted to keep the poem referring to
mothers/grandmothers/self - or mention someone (like a daughter) who may, or
may not, perpetuate the progression of the poem as it intertwines how we (as
humans) carry such traits with us. Just a thought...
Bob
>From: Ryfkah * <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: New: I am not my mother
>Date: Sun, 4 May 2003 11:15:16 EDT
>
>I am not my mother
>
>I throw away some of her
>threadbare towels
>that once belonged to my grandmother
>the demanding mother-in-law
>my mother hated
>
>I am not my mother
>The lilac tree perfumed
>our yard purple every May
>I purchase a few lilac sprigs
>their price dear
>
>I am not my mother
>I save her knickknacks
>the Dresden iceskater
>my father gave her
>because they met
>at the Ice Arena in Chicago
>the elves and miniature houses
>just because they were hers
>One elf gets shattered in the laundry
>stuck between the towels
>I wash
>thinking I'm going to keep them
>
>I am not my mother
>I wonder what my daughters
>are doing for me for Mother's
>Day Whether they remember
>
>I am not my mother
>Her picture on my nightstand
>I want to talk with her
>but she clearly said
>even though ailing from dementia
> You're loudmouthed
> dirty and that is why your
> husband left
>
>I am not my mother
>My mother cried a lot
>My father yelled at her
>a lot I did not want to cry
>but cried too when my husband
>yelled at me
>
>I am not my mother
>Bedroom doors were always
>open Mine is always closed
>I know someone now
>who knows me
>a grown woman
>perfect like lilacs in May
>
>I am not my mother
>
>Ryfkah 5/3/03
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