 |
| Flickr Creative Commons Photo by SB |
HOMESICK
The pears on the kitchen counter
are probably ripe by now,
and the basil in the raised bed
ready to be ground into another batch of pesto.
Perhaps the coneflowers and gayfeather have bloomed,
and certainly the morning glory vines
have locked the back gate.
But when I return, the afternoon sun will glow
through the west windows
as it always does.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
This week, I've been thinking about what changes and what remains, about loss and redemption, about worldly goods vs. the riches of family and friends, about the ultimate meaning of home.
Diane has the Poetry Friday roundup this week at Random Noodling. There is one more hosting slot available on the July-December 2016 calendar. Is December 16 calling your name? Claim the date here.
This week, I've been thinking about what changes and what remains, about loss and redemption, about worldly goods vs. the riches of family and friends, about the ultimate meaning of home.
Diane has the Poetry Friday roundup this week at Random Noodling. There is one more hosting slot available on the July-December 2016 calendar. Is December 16 calling your name? Claim the date here.
Mary Lee, this poem leads me to an unexpected place. It is a beautiful visual for my eyes as well as a culinary treat but the thought of returning home is such a heartwarming one.
ReplyDeleteGives a wonderful feeling of summer and longing. Love it!
ReplyDeleteOh, Mary Lee, I don't know whether to smile or cry. (And to me that means your poem is a success!)
ReplyDeleteThanks for helping us to ponder what home is to each of us, too, Mary Lee. Those simpler parts make our lives rich indeed.
ReplyDeleteThat is beautiful, Mary Lee. Makes me ache for home, too.
ReplyDeleteDear Mary Lee, i often have thoughts like these while I am away from home... love reading your specifics here and what it says about the speaker of the poem, how that speaker marks time, what is dear. Love especially the morning glories locking the gate. Coming home for me is always the best part of every trip (and I love my trips!). xo
ReplyDeleteSuch gorgeous images. I'm home, but this makes me homesick! Are you coming to Colorado this summer?
ReplyDeleteHome is where the heart is.
ReplyDeleteThe scent of cypress wood greets me when I come home from a trip. Our mud/laundry room where we usually enter is lined with this wood. I rarely notice it when I'm home and coming in and out, but it's the first thing to say "home" when I arrive after being away. I love your poem.
ReplyDeleteI like the morning glory vines with their grip on the gate. I hope your have time to savour home during your break, Mary Lee.
ReplyDeleteThese images are gorgeous, Mary Lee. Our desire for adventure is always tempered by our desire to be home.
ReplyDeleteOh, I love the wistfulness the speaker reveals.
ReplyDeleteHere's hoping he/she gets back to that Home.
This week I snipped some of our voluptuous basil
& made our 3rd pesto of summer, so I know what
yearning the speaker has for the remembered taste
of this season.
hugs.
Like Diane, I don't know whether to cry or smile. Hugs to you, Mary Lee.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you, Mary Lee. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteMary Lee, I am leaving for a long trip and this poem really touched me about how I will miss being home. There is a bittersweet tone, though, and I'm thinking it might have been written from a sad place. If that is so, I am sending peaceful thoughts of hope your way.
ReplyDeleteMary Lee, what a beautiful poem. I agree with the others: both wistful and joyful. I love the "locked gate" and the morning glory vines, the pears that ripen like in one of the Old Master's paintings, other rich imagery that shows how time gets marked in the summer...and, especially, that afternoon sun that sets (always) in the West, your first home.
ReplyDeleteYou've captured beautifully the changes and the securities of home (and how it welcomes us back after a time away). Enjoy your travels, both the miles and the mental.
ReplyDeletePerhaps
ReplyDeleteand certainly
locked the back gate
I am there immediately.
Well done
You've struck a nerve here, Mary Lee! Looks like we poets love to go but long for home. Thanks for capturing this dichotomy with such vivid images!
ReplyDeleteMary Lee,
ReplyDeleteThe concrete details you use in your poem really help me to picture home through your eyes. We do miss the little things. Hoping all is going well and that you will be home soon.
Cathy