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Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Skipping Stones

Suddenly I saw him as he must have been--
a scrawny boy with scraped elbows in dusty bib overalls
squatting by the side of a rocky creek,
skipping stones across its surface--
In his jeans, flannel jacket and straw hat
he stretches on the post office's metal bench
and sings Rolling in My Sweet Baby's Arms
and carries on a conversation with himself
about being in the Air Force
and walking to the post office--
But before he came to this,
before he was a working man,
before he was a father,
or a husband or a student,
he was a small boy with scabby elbows
and nothing more important to do
than skipping stones across a rocky creek.

6 comments:

  1. Thank You from me and for him.

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  2. good. very very good.

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  3. A very eye-opening piece Susanna; it really touched my heart. I wonder how many like him are all around us and we never notice. Never think about his past life.

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  4. He seemed so happy, and content with his own company. I did wonder if he was an Alzheimer patient that was out on his own, but how can a person tell? He was attempting conversation with many people but most brushed him off. In a case like that, what would you do? He was quite able to walk around, and didn't seem to be a danger to himself. He touched my heart because obviously he had been someone else at one time, fully functioning. And yet...he did not seem unhappy as he was.

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  5. I think that's your best poem to date -- in any case, my favourite so far.

    Mario

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  6. I'd like to think I would talk to him. If he was sitting so would I. I love this poem. I'm glad you saw him. I'm wondering what his name is. I'm thinking past your poem because with those few sentences it started a whole realm of possibilities and a story. You are so amazing with words and ALWAYS fire my imagination up. :)

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Thank you for sharing your thoughts! Comments are moderated so may not appear immediately, but be assured that I read and enjoy each and every word you write, and will post them as quickly as possible.

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