Playing
with my favorite toy,
A
final gift from both of you,
A
consolation from your trip to Paris,
A respite
meant to rekindle the flame
That
sloughed children instead of ashes,
An
ambulance that careened away
From
everything it touched.
Until
it tangled with your ivy once too often
And
you took your turn.
When
you finished,
My
ambulance needed an ambulance of its own.
Broken
by the floor,
Unmended
by an apology,
It only
ran in circles.
Like
that toy
I
once bounced off the obstacles before me.
Now,
unable to pick a direction,
I
only run in circles, afraid
I will
damage something
More
dear to you than me,
And
be dashed upon the floor again.
8/04
©
2017 Edward P. Morgan III
As throughout the year, I am posting a poem today and an essay related to it.
ReplyDeleteYou can find more background on this poem in the companion essay “Winter Solstice 2017 – The Toy” on the Noddfa Imaginings blog for essays.
Picture Notes:
ReplyDeleteOur choices for this image were a picture of a real ambulance, or a picture of a toy ambulance. But we didn’t have a toy ambulance. Amazon to the rescue! Next I needed some ivy. I have a number of plants in my office. This picture was taken under my bankers lamp on my desk with some ivy cuttings that have been rooting in a cup for a while. The harsh light overhead filters down to the ambulance through the leaves. Once I had the shot, I cropped it a little, edited a few brown spots and hot spots on the leaves, and added a little more blur for depth of field. I like the closeness of the shot and the feel that the toy is hiding among the leaves, hoping not to be noticed.