Tomatoes rested on the kitchen
windowsill,
waiting for the sun to turn them
orange.
The humidity was stifling.
I sat,
mesmerized by
the turning blades of the ceiling fan
as I pondered an
unanswerable
question,
then pretended not to hear
as you quietly closed the door —
left alone to wonder
when,
if ever
you would come back —
finally realizing
reality lies
somewhere
between dreams
and
broken promises.
Thank you, Rick for your reading and commenting.
a moment in time and feeling
in thought and place
gently expressed
quietly devastating
but awareness
rueful though it may be
brings hope.
Richard,
I studied psychology in college, and enjoy writing about the human condition. I think of myself as a positive person, but I feel it is important for us to view life’s events…whether good, bad or indifferent…and then we have a decision…to either move on, or stay stuck in the present, which then effects the outcome of the future. Hopefully, we move forward.
Thank you so much for reading and commenting.
Edwin,
Thank you so much for reading and commenting. You have expressed well the feeling that I wanted to convey with this piece, and I thank you for that, too.
These trials and heartaches someday will pass. This write aches with the uncertainty intrinsic in human relationships. Very touching.
Richard
This is an example of how an effective telling of a moment can relate an epic of a story. Indeed, brief but powerful.
In few words, poetess Dawn Wilson is successful in presenting the persona: her domesticated state, love and fear.
The imagery is intense. The tomatoes by the windowsill reflect the persona’s mastery of her immediate environment, that even without looking, even with eyes almost closed (she is searching her mind for an answer to an “unanswerable question”), she hears the sound of the door quietly closing, and is almost terrified by it. The reader can relate to the pain within her, in fact, the poem allows the audience to understand if ever tears ensue.
These things are all happening all at once, quietly, and the reader is with the persona all along, even feeling the utter humidity in her kitchen and the hope she holds for the tomatoes.
The door quietly closing is both an actual event and a metaphor in the poem. Such is the magic of Wilson’s pen. With a single stroke, she is able to bring us into a home, a relationship, and a person, making us feel her devotion and hope.
Edwin M. Cordevilla