Bubbles for Anna
By Rey Spadoni
A pinkish weave for happier times and not of her choosing
Draped across aged seeming knees and for reasons unwanted
Wheeling forward not of her making, stopping for him to
Steal a smoke away from attentive disdain
She noticed a once breeze now draft and hunting for whispered forms
A child pursing lips and hissing into a round wet wand
Prancing and glistened they, lifted by breezes or drafts in places Anna would once go
But for pinkish weaves and grave news forwarded by stiff voices, tapping pencils
In the respite she thought of dreams now descended beyond her reach or dashed
Of children, slate wooden floors in kitchens and daisy bouquet arrangements
Of pennies into fountains of romance and fancy, croissants and cafes
Then pension and grandchild, descending slowly never dashed
But white tiles and chrome fixtures, fluorescent sun bathing
Hours to days to more into ceaseless pauses, but ending approaching
For this battle they called it, stay strong you can do it
But words can’t supplant what once occupied her dreaming
Then one remaining still underneath, unseen
A memory of what she had thought it could be
One remaining, still
Undashed, and not quite yet done
This poem is absolutely beautiful. The photo such a beautiful fit. What talent you have…..so moving and inspiring.
Thank you for the beautiful start to a beautiful day!
Karen – thank you very much for your comment.
Although the picture speaks volumes for itself the poem enhances its positive emotional impact.
Great way to start off on Monday morning. I love bubble photos and this is one of the best I have ever seen. How long did it take you to get the bubbles to land like that? And may I ask, who is Anna?
Thank you, Rodney. Much appreciated.
I fired many bubbles up into the air, trying to catch one in flight. Then it occurred to me that the final lines of the poem might suggest this lone bubble, landed. Overall, took maybe 15 minutes. Would have kept at it had I bit more time. Some of the look is pure Lightroom, I must confess.
Anna is an old friend who, sadly, had to contend with all this.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say you wrote this for your (grand)mother? Absolutely beautiful…I read it twice to glean the full meaning (at least, what I gather the meaning to be). Sad, poignant, yet universally apropos…Happy Mother’s Day!
Pinkish weave, grave news…not of her choosing…happier times…end approaching (cancer?). Rey…my condolences. I lost my mother 2 years ago…I miss her terribly. I hope that is not the case here. I gather the bubbles for Anna equate to the years of her life…fleeting, yet glorious.
A fitting tribute to (your and) all Mothers, grandmothers, sisters, daughters. They fill our lives with meaning and beauty, and are not soon forgotten. Spend time with them this weekend…and as often as possible. Time will come when you cannot…
Thank you for your comment, Frank. Poignant words.
Not about my grandmother. I never knew my maternal grandmother, Maryanne, as she passed on long before I was born. My paternal grandmother, Nana Erice, was a large part of my life though only to about the age of 10.
Yes, Anna had cancer. She told me about the transition from living a carefree life. The visual images she described are with me still. This writing is a reflection of that.
Again, thank you,