found while sorting

[elisem]

This box is dusty, scuffed, among the last
I packed when hard March winter held us all.
Now summer and new rooms await. Life's changed.
The curtains ride the breeze; they lift and sink.
The cardboard whispers underneath my hand,
a hesitating hiss like rusty wings

left too long folded. There's the truth of wings:
they must have use if they are meant to last.
Too small a treasure held can make a hand
curl to a claw. I gauge the box, twine, all
the careful taping, lift the knife and sink
the blade in lightly. Break the seal. It's changed

from taut and tidy to a tangle; changed
and opened. I put down the knife, brush wings
of newly shortened hair past ears, then sink
my hands into the open box. The last,
or nearly so, I think. I say, "When all
of this is done," and stop because my hand

finds stone. "What's that?" you say. I lift my hand
and hold the figures up. They have not changed
in transit much. A little dust, is all.
"Some alabaster angels with chipped wings,"
I say. A yard sale find, year before last.
"Good name for a band," you say, at the sink.

You bend to scrub. The dishes in the sink
are slowly coming clean beneath your hand,
losing the grime of newsprint. When the last
is clean, we'll find them places. That's not changed.
I like the angels. I don't mind the wings,
because I didn't break them, after all.

They came to me that way. I hope that all
these little treasures catch us if we sink
in unfamiliar newness. Still, our wings,
though chipped, are ours now; we've paid. In each hand
we hold what hope we dare to, and are changed.
Our summer wings will hold. Now, flight, at last.


Sometimes finding old manuscripts is a really good thing. I also found the words for the Winnipeg Folk Festival Baggiecon version of "All Through the Night." Ph33r me. I suppose I'd better post them, so people will have them for this year's festival.

Comments

[truepenny.livejournal.com]

I love good sestinas. And that's a good sestina.

Thank you!

[papersky.livejournal.com]

Oh wow Elise! That's wonderful. Thank you. So hopeful.

[elisem.livejournal.com]

It was hopeful, which surprises me a tiny bit, given how much I was wrestling with depression back then.

Better now. Better is good.

Probably could stand to write some more poetry, though. Going through these papers reminds me that I can.

Oh, and that reminds me of another thing I must post, re haiku earring challenge poetry. 'Scuse me! [zooming off to post]