Nostalgic Moments May 5, 2008
Posted by jewaira in Poetry & Verse, Women.trackback
It is always painful to go through old papers and unsorted belongings.
Sometimes we come across things we don’t even remember having.
I came across a print out of this poem and I can’t recall who gave it to me or whether I had printed it out myself. It was between some personal papers. I threw the paper away but want to keep the poem here for now:
It is a poem by Amy Lowell called Madonna of the Evening Flowers:
All day long I have been working
Now I am tired.
I call: “Where are you?”
But there is only the oak tree rustling in the wind.
The house is very quiet,
The sun shines in on your books,
On your scissors and thimble just put down,
But you are not there.
Suddenly I am lonely:
Where are you?
I go about searching.
Then I see you,
Standing under a spire of pale blue larkspur,
With a basket of roses on your arm.
You are cool, like silver,
And you smile.
I think the Canterbury bells are playing little tunes,
You tell me that the peonies need spraying,
That the columbines have overrun all bounds,
That the pyrus japonica should be cut back and rounded.
You tell me these things.
But I look at you, heart of silver,
White heart-flame of polished silver,
Burning beneath the blue steeples of the larkspur,
And I long to kneel instantly at your feet,
While all about us peal the loud, sweet Te Deums of the Canterbury bells.





We move often. There is something so sad, so depressing about going through old paper that I find myself getting rid of, getting rid of, getting rid of. . . coldly, quickly, hurriedly.
Rarely have I had a regret. I’ve gotten very cynical about saving papers for posterity - I’ve watched too many “estates” dismantled, the vultures circling, not even knowing the value of the scraps they fight over . .
All we really take with us are our memories and our experiences, if we don’t lose our minds in the process. Sigh.
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I certainly envy those who do not have alot to move around. It gives one a sense of relief not to have so much if only I could actually do it.
J