Sunday, February 9, 2014

Bark Borer

I have opened too many boxes,
Insides redolent of correspondence
Long closed, glue and dust,
Old collodion, lives closed,
Whittled pegs, strings,
Things cinched in stiff ribbon,
Parts. Paraffin.
I weary of the irreparable.
And so look beyond bottom drawers,
Basements, to beating hearts,
Out of webs,
Out of the past.
Is it
Time present or time preferable?
Much happens over what
Happened last.
Something one
Must decide:
To gather clues; to reason,
Open boxes from inside;
To be, and be reason applied;
To contain a search
Assembled in mystery.


  1. Having spent this past year culling through piles of old photos, trying to identify people, I have reached that conclusion. The old photos must now face in at the walls, while the newer ones gaze out at the lights.

    1. Thanks Susan. I found it sure helps if somebody jotted names, dates, places on things. I do that now.

  2. Nice. When we helped my grandmother move, there were so many boxes of photographs. Mandy of the people we did not know.

    1. Thanks, Lady Lilith. I've found the unknown faces sometimes reward closer study, and comparisons with older or younger versions of known faces and family branches. It's delightful armchair detective work, but you doubtless know that.

  3. This brought to mind Robinson Jeffers, a favorite poet of mine in high school. You have a profound talent for verse, Geo.

  4. There was a time when people were lucky if they had a couple of photos for each person, like my great grand parents. Then with time people started taking pictures and now it is back to the old times in the sense that while people have hundreds of pictures in their computers, not too many on the walls.

  5. I missed this poem.
    Nicely done, Geo.
    I really enjoyed it.


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