dear friends
another reblog of a poem and subject
that have been on my mind these past
few weeks. hope you enjoy it.

there is a moment
in the darkness which is my waking hour,
that i realize these bones are older than i remember
shallow muscles ache more than they should…still,
i rise to the occasion. i get up

because that’s what i do,
there is work to be done and coffee to brew.
because work is what i know.
i was taught early lessons in sweat, and
the value of honest labor.

and i thought only i’d heard the
rooster’s faint crow from a distant farm,
but there is rustling in the bedrooms.
the rest of US are rising to an occasion too,
it’s what they’ve known…so we sip

our fresh brewed, congratulate Scout’s parents
on their anniversary yet they choose to celebrate
this moment, their long and loving history
talking of work that needs completion, during breakfast.
‘so, you’ve been married three years less than i’ve lived?’,

and i’m 58 now….so yes, we’ve all brought our considerable
history and collection of tools here to our farm, an old house
certainly deserves repair. because all of US hear the
fading echoes of those who’ve walked these creaky floors.
THEY, who gave life

and love and their sweat of honest labor.
that even during the Great Depression somehow
scratched out a living doing whatever was needed to
keep this farm, this family alive, because day after weary day
they got up, and rose to their occasion.

29 thoughts on “restoration

  1. Kinda comforting knowing we are the same age – but I know what you write of with the bones being older than you remember 😦 We shall not think of such things. This is lovely. How the generations of past rolled up there sleeves to get a job done, how many now don’t bother or have excuses. We are from ‘old stock’ and in a way that is gratifying. {{hugs my friend}} and to your lovely Scout and Congratulations on their Wedding Anniversary. x

    • i just thought i needed to recognize, give thanks to those who came before. I never met them, but Scout swears her Grams woulda’ just loved me. she died just as we met, i’m sorry i didn’t get a chance to meet her and them. but there are stories they tell, that i will tell to keep them alive.

      my friend, yes old stock, that’s precisely where we are from, and i’m happy for it.
      thank you, as always you have wisdom. {{{ h u g s }}} and *smiles* on their way to you.

  2. Laura Bloomsbury says:

    so I’ve lived 3 years longer than you and still my poetry is prosaic 😦
    the restoration of the family captured in the labour of togetherness!

    • Laura, i’ve read your words and you so underestimate yourself. and you know, all the things Scout and I have in common, this old school work wthic is part of what i share with her parents. we are all a very good fit!

  3. SSMatthews says:

    This a graceful and well composed piece of writing, from the line breaks to final word, it is complete and consistent in tone, word use characterization and I really can’t say enough about it!

    • i really appreciate you mentioning the line breaks, it was the lesson i was trying to teach myself with this poem. some poems seem to lend themselves to continuous text, this one didn’t, and visually it’s more appealing too. Mr. Matthews, i know i’m ready at this point for your critique, i trust you and thank you for taking as much time as you do.

  4. annotating60 says:

    A very good write. Thank you for it.>KB

  5. Jamaiquina says:

    A lovely setting for a tribute to those who went before. You paint the scene beautifully!

    • even though i’m the adopted son of the family, for the past 12 years i’ve heard so many stories, an oral history recited every chance they get that i feel like i’ve known Scout’s grandparents, aunts and uncles.
      ty my friend, what you say carries a lot of wieght with me.

  6. Dominating essence is beautifully expressed ~ Responsibility that like an oyster holds a pearl of gratitude for the everyday experience. Wonderful !

    • yes, i will always be a collector of small details that otherwise go unnoticed, to me the fabric of life. ty so much.

      • I enjoy that the rudimentary things of daily existence are valued and become the point of everything else~ Blessings friend ~Debbie

      • Debbie, i do too, and maybe because i’ve lived a while i’ve come to realize over time that it’s not the next big, shiny thing, it’s the little things everyday with the ones i love. the kindness, a hug, a word or two….those are the details that weave this fabric of our lives.

        i am so glad we know each other, know you are treasured by me.
        {{{ h u g s }}} to you, my barometer.

  7. Sara V says:

    Very, very nice! You set the scene so well–I was feeling it, and that refrain–“rose to the occasion” this poem definitely does 🙂

    • what a wonderful comment, thank you so much. i just don’t want to lose sight of the history, of devotion and sacrifices made by others that we are enjoying today. this was my tribute to them.

  8. I love how you have captured the spirit and history of this place. I can picture generations of hard working people living, laughing, crying and growing under one roof. I think sometimes a house picks up energy from its past occupants and that can be good or bad. Sounds like this old farm has lots of positive energy and you can feel that like a warm embrace…which is why you immediately felt Home.

    Sorry if I got carried away 🙂 This was a very good write. The imagery, the flow and I swear I could smell the coffee brewing but maybe that is just wishful thinking!

  9. SirenaTales says:

    I have now reread this weighty gem a few times. I went back to quote my favorite line, but then realized that it was swiftly followed by another, and another! Decided I wouldn’t quote your own poem back to you :). My overall experience is delighted surprise, with an undercurrent of gravitas–the aromatic weight of decades of coffee, hard work, lives, sacrifice. Love the rhythm and energy changes, e.g. the poignant rumination of that first verse ending with brief, matter-of-fact “i get up”–which then also continues the flow to the next stanza. This piece is an old, knowing river–twisting, eddying, the complex cross currents coloring richly our experience of your insightful vision. Bravo, my friend.

    • geez Sirena, where have you been all my life?!!! LOL!

      what an incrdibly thoughtful, well written and poeteic
      review, and this;
      ‘an old, knowing river–twisting, eddying,
      the complex cross currents coloring
      richly our experience…’

      i could not have described it any better if
      someone asked me to, ty so much. i truly love
      Scout’s parents, in the absence of my own family,
      their history has become mine too. and that farm
      said HOME to me the minute i saw it the clearing.

      we’ve been gifted that family farm, what a miracle
      that this poor boy from the mean streets of Brooklyn,
      would end up on a farm in Indiana!

      • SirenaTales says:

        You’re welcome–thanks for the beauty. So pleased for you with the blessing of your HOME, family and farm, both. They sound amazing. Namaste….p.s. Thank you very much for including my poem in your inspirations–I am grateful and honored.

  10. SirenaTales says:

    So glad you have brought this treasure more into view, MasterWho. Just read it aloud in a stage whisper–gave me chills! Here’s to the repair and restoration of old houses–of the body and of the soul. Thank you and hugs.

  11. You are such a wonderful writer. Your appreciation for things is so honest and gentle. “Honest,” that how you write, honestly, and because of that you reach through the words and touch our hearts and make us remember. This is a lovely piece, one for which I am grateful.

    • hitandrun, ty so much. i’ve decided to go for broke in my writing,
      stripped of all metaphors so i really appreciate that you receive
      my honesty as wonderfully as you do. know you are treasured here.

      love and hugs to you!

  12. Chess says:

    So good to see you blogging again.

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