27 March 2011

A Divided Plane

I look in the mirror
and chisel my face
into quadrants of  four:

Carolina.
hands never still
Slovak and English
quietly falling from lips
kissing the sweet crown
of a newborn's head
her plump cheeks rest
on the bones of my face

Martin.
stoic coal miner
living for family
dying for family
the one of four
I never knew
his nose delineates
my facade

Isabella.
inner steel beneath
soft Scots burr
pale soap-scented skin
the backbone of family
deep-lake blue eyes
those through which
life finds me

Walter.
digger of earth
puffing pipe smoke halos
cigars and pinochle
straight-backed
reserved Englishman
my hesitant mouth
speaks his words never said

These four without whom
my face would be
just a face.

8 comments:

  1. The roots of love...shining upon you.


    :-))

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  2. Very nice, Diana. I tried to write a poem recently but morphed into a rare depressing limerick. 'I once knew a girl from Nantucket, who was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and kicked the bucket'
    Ergo,I put down my pen and immediately retired from poetry.

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  3. Amazing! This let me have a deeper peek into who you are, and I love you that much more. All of you.

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  4. i like the concept of four faces and from whom you inherited them --- i like to divide my face in two and then decide which one i'll be that day :)

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  5. Great poem. Strong visuals, as usual.

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  6. What a great way to show appreciation to those you love.
    Something I am terrible at.
    Very well written.

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  7. I love this one so much, Diana!! My favorite so far! Janie

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  8. this is so rich and beeutiful with visuals that enable the reader not only a picture but a feeling of the strong connections of family for me who doesn't have such connections it really stands out so strong and deep in your poetry here. thankq for sharing again such wonderful poetry Beez :)

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