In the photo I am
framed by the outdoor fireplace,
a watering can, a garden,
and many people outside the frame,
my protection against the dark.
I remember being afraid of the dark
especially the dark of hallways
and stairways that linked bright rooms.
But here I am protected in the night
holding a marshmallow
on a pointed stick
over the last coals of fire.
I remember Grandpa whittling the stick,
Grandmother putting the marshmallow
in place, and Mom and Dad encouraging me
to cook it myself.
Now none of the protectors
are on this side of death.
They are invisible
encouraging me, and
I almost remember
the taste of marshmallows
brown and hot on the outside,
soft and sweet in the middle.
For Mary's prompt "Memory" at What's Going On?
It is good to have protectors near you in the dark. Makes things less scary, knowing one is surrounded by them. Even on the other side of death these comforts can remind us, I think, that we can survive the darkness. Your poem brought back nice memories for me too, of those whittled sticks and cooking marshmallows over the grill. You had SUCH blonde hair. I did too! A lovely and meaningful memory.
ReplyDeleteWhat a WONDERFUL memory. Took me right back to my own childhood marshmallows, then my children's, then my grandchildren's. Now great-grandkids are warming marshmallows. I must be very old. Smiles.
ReplyDeleteHow beautifully wrapped up in that toasted treat - so rich and soul filling - Jae
ReplyDeleteLove how the poem builds up to that beauty of a close. This is a memory to hold close.
ReplyDeleteI love how you expand from the photo to actual memories, Susan. I think we are all afraid of the dark in childhood, and we all have people we look up to and trust. My grandparents were my protectors too, which is why this poem resonates with me, especially these lines:
ReplyDelete‘Now none of the protectors
are on this side of death.
They are invisible
encouraging me’.
Lovely marshmallow moments when the dark is not dark in the presence of elders. Truly wonderful to bask in the warmth of such precious memories. You look very cute, Susan.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fabulous photo. I love the look of wonder on your face as the marshmallow toasts. What a great memory.
ReplyDeleteSorry - anonymous is Suzanne - wayfaring blog - Wordpress.
ReplyDeleteWhen they are not on this side...that's totally unimaginable even when we know the truth. Love that image and the tenderness in this poem.
ReplyDeleteThat's a new photograph for me. I remember the yard, the time and place. I like the positive way you express your feelings of those around us.
ReplyDeleteYou were a sensitive beautiful child. At this age our loved ones are waiting for us on the other side.
ReplyDeleteMy parents had a metal watering can like that, and I have many memories of lugging it to and from the faucet and taking care of the plants in summer. It meant a lot to me and I still had it when I was married. Then one day I went out to the garage to find that my son and his half brother had punched holes all around it and destroyed it. They both got a major earful about how just because a thing had no meaning for them, doesn't mean it has no meaning for someone else. They both grew up to be Republicans. It hurts my heart and makes me feel that I failed.
ReplyDeleteThat the feeling, that memory of protection from the dark, surrounded by your loving parents and grandparents, survives still leaves one with a feeling as soft and warm and melting as a marshmallow, sweet to behold in your poetry, Susan.
ReplyDeleteNo protection from the dark saddens me. I love your memory.
ReplyDeleteHow heartwarming! They may be gone now but the memory lives on and they remain alive in your heart.
ReplyDelete