So nuanced, with a gut-punch at the end. It reminds me of George Saunders’ “Sticks.” Beautifully crafted, and vivid. How much pain in that terrible weekend, and in a life.
I remember the day myself. I was five and was next door visiting with my elderly neighbor buddy. The TV was on, she started crying, and sent me home telling me something bad had happened. When I got home my mother was crying. I haven't thought about that in years.
This, at first glance, appears to be a simple story about your brother and your family. But there's a lot more to it underneath. Still waters run deep.
(Ha! That's the 2nd time I've used that phrase in two days! Probably haven't said it in 20 years!)
A big story told in simple lines of a poem. A good one.
I’m somewhat bemused by what appears to me to be disappointment. Oh well, I’ll let it be.
So nuanced, with a gut-punch at the end. It reminds me of George Saunders’ “Sticks.” Beautifully crafted, and vivid. How much pain in that terrible weekend, and in a life.
Thanks, Mary. I had not known that George Saunders story. Found it and read it. I see the resemblance.
How I love this.
I remember the day myself. I was five and was next door visiting with my elderly neighbor buddy. The TV was on, she started crying, and sent me home telling me something bad had happened. When I got home my mother was crying. I haven't thought about that in years.
I think about it often. One of those "before and after" events.
I think Mom was right - he knew that man.
This, at first glance, appears to be a simple story about your brother and your family. But there's a lot more to it underneath. Still waters run deep.
(Ha! That's the 2nd time I've used that phrase in two days! Probably haven't said it in 20 years!)
Good work here!
How I love a surprise ending!
Happy to oblige. I trust you enjoyed your week with Mark Doty.
It was so good. I mean, people were weeping with gratitude at the end.
I had a similar doll house. In a funny way I miss it. I too think Jack Ruby knew Oswald
The ending of this poem says so much. Thanks
Nothing quite like a dollhouse, right? Such an uncanny object.
So good. I was two months old but I grew up with the story of my mom being at the beauty parlor when Kennedy was shot.
Thanks, LeeAnn. We all know where we were. I was in English class.
Well done with the right tone. The hopes that we have for someone so often higher than the ones held by the persons themselves.