I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

10 December 2013

A Precious Book

The book is old. Its thin red cardboard cover
is plain, with no illustration, only
small gold letters hard to read
among the discolourations and creases.

The writing inside is small too. The Contents page 
promises sections of photos, but this  
is a proof copy. There are no photos and no 
publication date (deliberately obscured by the printer).

All the warmth and colour are in the words.
All the pictures too — family snapshots, action movies —
and the history, all the dates when things happened:
great and small things, public and private.

This is the autobiography of a famous matriarch
reminiscing about her famous family. She says
she's correcting lies. I don't know — those lies —
we are inclined still to believe them.

But she writes with love and tells her own story
of the incidents and scandals we think we know.
Sweet lady, much hurt ... I like her. No, I won't tell you 
her name. This book is valuable; I want to keep it.

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