We never talk about her when we go
We never ask our fare when we go
We walk the path, we open the door
We don't ask about the room
Connected to nothing but weeds
We tell them to bring whatever
They loved or wore when they knew
Life would work out for them
She likes to lie to us
About the happiness she hoards
She'll tell you that she lives like a girl
Because only girls believe in fairies
And she believes us that we're sisters
Under the skin, maybe
A sororal sunrise over a hidden isle
Her heart rides the tides, she says
When we're on the path, when we
Are pretending we're all one thing
A potent pixie family
Smeared deep within her veins.
Happiness must be the shabbiness
That brings all creatures soft into a den
A way of holding on to restless time
Dragging them, like a mother
Through the dizzy daytime into bed
We don't talk about our family
Under the hill, toes in a circle and up
She never liked dancing, but I can't
Tell you what she did like
Only that she's here, bring your happy gift
Posting both at Poets United for Poetry Pantry #414 and at The Sunday Muse for Muse #15. Hope everyone finds that next week brings at least one good summer afternoon and evening. :)
Best wishes,
Chrissa
i liked this poem. read like a fairy-tale
ReplyDeleteShe likes to lie to us
ReplyDeleteAbout the happiness she hoards
I think letter her continue to do that is the best gift you can give...
"...she lives like a girl because only girls believe in fairies....." I love that! She has found her own kind of happiness, and that is such a good thing.
ReplyDelete"Dragging them, like a mother
ReplyDeleteThrough the dizzy daytime into bed"
Nice image. Happy Sunday to you. Thanks for dropping by my Sunday Standard today
Much💟love
Ah, there are things....in families....that everyone knows but no one talks about. The untold tells could fill a thick book!
ReplyDeleteA fantastic piece of writing. 'She'll tell you that she lives like a girl Because only girls believe in fairies': a brilliant, layered and important line of poetry. Really, a indelible line of poetry, that speaks to the essence of who we are, how we define ourselves and how we are defined. Awesome writing!
ReplyDeleteGoodness, one likes to believe and not to gossip after, and yet the visit and the stories are "A way of holding on to restless time," indeed. And I like that.
ReplyDelete"She likes to lie to us
ReplyDeleteAbout the happiness she hoards"
perhaps it's better this way, to let it be?
this is a modern fairy tale.
"A potent pixie family
ReplyDeleteSmeared deep within her veins." What a wonderful story is hidden in the seed form of these lines. So lovely.
I agree, there are always some matters in family that others prefer not to discuss. Lovely write 💜
ReplyDeleteIntriguing, sad ... and I'm afraid I can't figure out the actual situation behind the words.
ReplyDeleteI think everyone and every family can relate to this in some way Chrissa. Love this, and I to can relate. It is the elephant in the room that goes unspoken, but cannot help but be seen.
ReplyDelete