Monday, May 13, 2013

Hello Bluebell readers,

I hope you had a lovely spring weekend..

For many of us in the western continent, there is a media generated celebration called "Mothers Day" most kids love their moms everyday (or not as the case may be) but you gotta love the ingenuity of Hallmark for pushing this day to the forefront and making billions from it.

For the rest of us...

we  struggle.

I happened across this poem and loved the dream sequence feel of it.

I thought some of you might like it also.

by Ted Kooser

Mother came to visit today.
We hadn't seen each other in years.
Why didn't you call? I asked.
Your windows are filthy, she said.
I know,
I know.
It's from the dust and rain.
She stood outside.
I stood in, and we cleaned each one that way, staring into each other's eyes,
rubbing the white towel over our faces,
 rubbing away hours, years.
This is what it was like
when you were inside me, she said.
 What? I asked,
though I understood.
 Afterwards, indoors, she smelled like snow
Holding hands we stood by the picture window,
gazing into the December sun,
 watching the pines in flame.

My Review

Seldom do you come across a poem that so craftily weaves incestuous fantasy and window cleaning in to an artful expression of ones love.

No seriously, this poem at times had me a bit confused but overall it was enjoyable. 
 I liked  the honesty and awkwardness expressed by the mother and son. However, the scattered writing left me unsure which emotion to  connect to which person. They renewed their relationship not because any one did something wrong but because life gets in the way 
and through the cleaning of windows (eyes) and the literal picture window, a mother and son reconnect in a way that they had once before when her son was still an unborn child.
While I would not necessarily share this with my mother nor hope my son shared it with me, I could see how this poem of a mother and son "cleaning" their relationship could be just the thing to bring closeness on a special day. 

Till next time dear readers!



Unknown said...


Anonymous said...

So, who wrote this poem which speaks to many of us of the relationship with our mother?