I always stayed quiet
when winter came
to the kitchen.
I never knew what sin
would open the library
to mama’s grudges,
but the kettle bang
on the stove signaled
frost would be served
with the mashed potatoes.
I learned early it was best
to not stray from the cinnamon
truth in silence is golden.
This really brings back memories for me--as a child, my mother lived with my grandparents, and the library of mutual grudges and banging where always there...I used to hide under the dining room table and pretend I was a lion, so I could roar and everyone would stop. The line about the serving of frost with mashed on the side, and the conclusion, especially are exquisite. Thanks so much for bringing us another sharp and cutting 55.
ReplyDeletelike Hedge I am struck by the library of grudges - a superb trope ~
ReplyDeleteOh goodness, stop reading my mail, woman! The library of grudges. I know this scene and the tension it carried with it all too well. Except with my mom it was the vacuum banging in the corners that signaled all was not well. I learned, as your ending suggests, to ignore the obvious, to not speak, to carry on as though there were no elephant in the room. t's no way to live.
ReplyDeleteThis is absolutely one tightly worded 55 that captures so much in the silences, the spaces of the "insanity" of being witness and yet an unwilling participant, in the unspoken grudges or if I may, "shit" - that unfolds .... the truth may set us free, but sometimes, the only way to survive the scalding moments, is to keep silent.
ReplyDeleteThis is just such an intense piece!