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Pam Burr Smith
Pam Burr Smith is a therapist as well as
a poet. She has been published in many small journals, as well as
large ones. She lives and works in Brunswick, Maine.
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I've Passed My Houses
I've passed my houses
seven or eight of them
or eleven or twelve
houses I can see myself entering
past the hedge into welcoming door
Whether it's blue or red
it will open for me
And I will go in
sheltered and arranged
lit and warmed
swallowed deliciously
like the tender bit of house food
that I am
Practicing for Heaven
Practicing for heaven
as the billboard says
Here by the deep fried camembert
as the grapes kiss the kiwis
and garlic soaks the bread with gratefulness
and languor
Let my legs ache with walking
while the man in black
taps his apparently happy feet
in rhythm with
What?
Desire?
Does she see his tapping feet?
I donąt think so
But she leans across the table
in a full and gentle way
while he keeps looking away
This must be something
We Are Doing
We are doing that intimate delicate
vulnerable elegant thing
called aging
in front of each other
the children the neighbors the home videos
the snapshots and the surprises in the mirror
We are growing to look like our parents
and the other ancestors
in the old photos of places now gone
Year by year we meet for parties or walks
We have learned the ache of regret
and the grace of familiar places
gently to find in the candlelight at dinner
that the lessons we have learned together
or wrestled out alone
have written messages on our faces
that we can read
but have not yet learned
how to tell the young
Poems © Pam Burr Smith 2004. All rights reserved. |
