Questions I Wish I’d Asked My Father
The pictures now are neatly filed
The only way I know her
My cousin Joan, who never smiled
I’m guessing she was kind of wild
I have no chance to show her
The pictures now are neatly filed
Nowhere near her mother’s style
Who liked to lace-and-bow her
My cousin Joan, who never smiled
Sullen, sad, unreconciled
Only a flashbulb glows her
The pictures now are neatly filed
She died at twenty, sick, defiled
Time’s river overflows her
My cousin Joan, who never smiled
My father’s sister’s only child
I feel this much I owe her
The pictures now are neatly filed
My cousin Joan, who never smiled
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11 comments:
What a great tribute, Susan.
P.S. I have never heard of a Villanelle.
Susan, this is beautiful.
Thank you! She was still on my mind when I got a villanelle assignment from my poetry group. I always find it interesting how poetic forms reveal things that might stay hidden in free verse.
PS: Dona, you're probably familiar with Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" ("Rage, rage against the dying of the light"). That's a villanelle.
Beautiful and sad. There are things you can express in poetry that are just too hard to do with normal language.
I love villanelles. I love this one. I remember the photo you posted on FB.
Thanks, Crystal and Lali. You're all such faithful and good bloggers. I'll try to do better in 2012!
I too think this is beautiful. For a long time I thought rhyming poetry was so low brow, but I so appreciate it now.
Helen:
Roses are red,
violets are blue.
I'm so glad Maureen
introduced me to you.
I love poems like this. I've never heard of a villanelle but it reminds me vaguely of a pantoum.
Yes, because of the repetition. I love to write pantoums.
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