Thursday, March 23, 2006

Poetry Thursday

Maureen Ryan Griffin is my writing teacher and friend.
She is like a ray of sunshine.
I share with you her poem entitled,
For Mother, As I Sort Through This Old Box Of Clothes Saved For A Granddaughter.
I selected this poem because my daughter has been very sick lately and Maureen's poem puts into such tender words the feelings of my heart. It comes from her book This Scatter of Blossoms.

For Mother, As I Sort Through This Old Box Of Clothes Saved For A Granddaughter

I remember sitting in the tub,
you washing my hair, a halo,
around your head where light

met the steam. I was telling you
how much I loved being eight
that I wanted to be eight forever.

And then I was nine and so happy
to be nine I wanted that age
to last forever too, then ten,

the years clicking by like Hail Marys
on your rosary beads till I would want
nothing more than to leave you.

But that year, my eighth, you bought me
this candy-stripped pink and white dress
with a whale on it.

I remember wanting to cry
when I tried it on the next summer
and it no longer fit.

Though I didn't tell you,
you came home one day carrying
the identical dress, stripped in blue,

in the next larger size. Proving
something about love I've never
found words to thank you for.

2 comments:

Cate said...

I was just teary over at Greenish Lady's site. Now, I'm full out BAWLING here at yours! Is it just me? Am I overly emotional tonight?!

This is so lovely. Again, I am transported, remember the talks my mother and I had when she gave me baths when I was small. I also remember the disappointment of growing out of favorite clothes (then feeling like I didn't want to grow up--that I wanted things to stay just the way they were!).

Thank you for sharing this stunning poem! I can see why you have the highest regard for Maureen Ryan Griffin!

GreenishLady said...

And this is your writing teacher? You've been in good hands, haven't you? This is lovely. It really does evoke a picture, and memories for me, too. Back to when I grew out of my favourite "Duck" dress (special because it came from America and had a label on it, showing it wasn't home-made), and my mother gave it away to a cousin. Forgiven? She had no idea how much I loved that dress, I suppose. Thanks, Lisa