Trying to Figure It Out
by
Maralee Gerke
copyright 12-04-2002
Age Rating: 18 to 127
What I knew of him was
Less than what I didn’t know.
This first man in my life.
A peach orchard, heavy
With the heady warm perfume
Of sun on boxes of fresh picked
Fragrant pink and orange peaches
Fuzz floating thick in the sultry air.
A memory of sunshine and dad.
A boy, depression and poverty raised.
Yearning for his place and a family.
Hands in the loamy soil
Planting seed to feed hungry
Soldiers and families.
There was no war for him.
A man with baldhead and farmer tan
Turning other people’s soil.
Longing for his own son
He sired three daughters.
The disappointment palpable
Judgment and strictness our way of life
Working the fields, as boys would have
Wanting to control our lives.
Expecting us to live near him.
Withholding his approval of spouses
And harshly judging our children
He missed seeing them grow
Becoming the absent grandparent
Age finally softened him
A final grudging acceptance-
Then he was gone, leaving us to figure it out.
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I concur in all the comments preceding this one. Your poem brought to mind one of my favourite quotes (I add to the collection whenever I encounter an insightful one): "The poet's business is not to describe things to us, or to tell us about things, but to create in our minds the very things themselves". English poet Lascelles Abercrombie (1881-1938), *Poetry: Its Music and Meaning* (1932). Your poem certainly meets that criteria through the use of strong imagery and admirable attention to cohesion of expression.