could these words chisel a metaphor
from memory
to portray a Madonna and child
from a sight on the train to Lucca
can I pare away the white
scribing dried ink across a watermark
could the image ever find the light
the sliver of time to give substance to the dream
or will some miniscule fissure tear this vellum
forever ruining the piece, the poem
showering shards of shredded printer paper
to the drifting waste like marble dust
left over from Michelangelo’s fury
then, will the vision verify the dream again
or will memory fail to find that other mother
and her child on the train to Firenze
another Madonna and child
prego, she said motioning toward the window
delighted, the child sat proudly watching the station drift by
cosa vedi? she asked
what do you see?
un uomo che correva!
A man running!
the mother loving sharing teaching teasing
the child trusting smiling laughing
loving learning life from a touch a wink a challenge
the mother taking all of this time
these moments mattered
there was no melancholic backward glance
no anxious sigh or hint of boredom
no rear view mirror distraction
or a thousand other things to do, deadlines to meet
no vision of the Pieta fearing the day
when he will take the train alone
no thought of no longer nursing but knowing he must
someday suckle the time the future will give
the motion and hum of steel wheels
turning round toward the distance
the gentle rocking of the train car lulling the day, but not
diminishing the blaze of childhood, the warmth of motherhood
the speaker announcing, “Firenze, Santa Maria Novella!”
andiamo! let’s go
gli occhi lucidi con antizipazione
Barry DeCarli
November 4, 6, 9, & December 24, 2011
Ferrisburgh, VT
Copyright 2011 Barry DeCarli
No comments:
Post a Comment