
Reliquary
On Sunday morning under orange bougainvillea,
Your picture spills from an old album.
You were on a verandah under purple bougainvillea,
drinking the hot noon from your coffee cup
as I drank passion fruit and watched Lake Tana birth the Nile.
Later, kneeling by the river, I made my hand into a cup,
but you called out that slow death swam the blood
of those who touched the river,
while behind you on harsh branches,
black birds barked stark music.
Now, on Sunday morning under orange bougainvillea,
half a world and half a life away,
I restore you to your proper place, remembering how,
when they laid you down to dream beneath the purple bougainvillea,
it was passionfruit’s sweet poison that flavored my life.
Please also see this elegy: https://judydykstrabrown.com/2016/10/11/look-up-poem-for-a-good-good-girl/
The NaPoWriMo prompt today was to write an elegy.
“drinking the hot noon from your coffee cup” Judy, you have such a knack for a turn of the phrase. Great title for this poem.
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Thanks, Calen.
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Not being catholic, I had to look up the word, but I agree, Calen. Perfect title for this stunning poem — on so many levels.
xx,
mgh
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Your poem reads like a novel.
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Hi Bernadette. My entire time in Ethiopia was like a novel. I’ve written different parts of it in my blog, but I think I haven’t written about his death. I’ll put this on Sr. Salon. I always forget and it is usually closed by time I remember. Thanks for the comment.
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I’ll look forward to seeing you there.
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Bernadette, it wouldn’t let me add it again because it said it had already been added to Mr Linky. Perhaps they keep track and won’t let you submit the same piece two different weeks? (re/ Reliquary.)
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I never knew that. What a pain. I am going to reblog it.
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Thanks, Bernadette. I will try to be more careful to submit to Senior Salon on Wed.
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Really, really love this
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Thanks, Helen
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Lovely and touching.
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Your poem makes me swoon and feel sad at the same time. It’s dense and perfumed, and rich with longing and loss. Beautiful, simply beautiful! You are one of my favorite poets on WP.
These lines, especially, tugged at me:
“You were on a verandah under purple bougainvillea,
drinking the hot noon from your coffee cup
as I drank passion fruit and watched Lake Tana birth the Nile.”
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Thank you, dreamer. Hard to believe this scene happened 44 years ago!
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Time is meaningless. It loops in on itself.
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So many beautiful images and memories in this poem and the repetition emphasizes the loss of a time, place and a person that was close.
https://goo.gl/HBGafj
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Judy, this is too beautiful to get buried. Can you repost it tomorrow? I know more of the Salon participants would read it and enjoy it.
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Yes. Thanks, Bernadette.
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I not only AGREE with Bernadette’s comment, I am one of the very ones of whom she spoke. Post it everywhere you can. It is simply stunning. I’d hate for it to be missed by *anyone.* I’ve read it three times now, and am keeping the tab open to come back and read it again. Your images are filmic.
xx,
mgh
(Madelyn Griffith-Haynie – ADDandSoMuchMORE dot com)
ADD Coach Training Field founder; ADD Coaching co-founder
“It takes a village to transform a world!”
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Thanks Madelyn. My memory is getting so bad that I have to check and see if I actually posted it again.
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EVEN though I put the link to Bernadette under the little couch graphic at the end of posts I share, I sometimes have had to check to see if I actually DID go to step-2 and actually post it! 🙂
But I cannot say “getting” bad – my short-term memory has been kludgy since I was a teen! Blame it on ADD.
Fortunately, if something ever makes it into long-term memory, that part has always been better than most folks experience. I can still recite monologues from auditions decades ago and could probably reprise a role with about a half an hour to review the script. (Of course, it would have to be for the old folks production – lol.)
xx,
mgh
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I can still recite entire poems I learned in the 6th grade..and the prelude to the Canterbury Tales and Shylock’s speech from The Merchant of Venice, but I forget the names of good friends and the location of my keys half the time? Forget it.
It wouldn’t let me post Reliquary a second time, by the way.
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Post it elsewhere – there are lots of blogger bashes.
I can do the Canterbury Tales too – in Middle English. and names and nouns — it’s not that we “forget” them — it’s that recall on demand is fuzzy. Stress shuts down the part of the brain that delivers the info to your conscious mind – and fearing that you won’t recall is STRESS. I always say to my clients and students, “Don’t chase it, it will run.”
Keys? Distraction in the moment, so it was never recorded FOR storage (or if you don’t always keep them in the same place, you get confused about which memory is of the last time).
It took me YEARS to develop workarounds personally.
xx,
mgh
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I’ll match your Canterbury Tales in Middle English.. and I have the best story ever about the last time I recited it by heart in its entirety but I can’t tell it on a public blog. Now isn’t that intriguing???
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VERY! My senior year English teacher was a Middle English scholar – and SO tough on us that I skated through all three quarters of freshman English in college barely having to crack a book!
xx,
mgh
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Darn, Bernadette. I forgot again to post on Wed. When are postings cut off? Wondering if I should post it now. Saturday. I am hopeless. Otherwise I’ll put a note on my calendar to post it next Wed.
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Reblogged this on Haddon Musings and commented:
I enjoyed reading this so much that I am reflagging it so that I can share it with you. Enjoy!
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Thanks, Bernadette. I’m honored.
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My first visit to you blog via Bernadette’s Haddon Musings. This is a stunning beautiful work and I look forward to visiting your blog often. Thank you.
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Thank you, Barbara. I look forward to talking to you.
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