Bringer
you carried on your shoulders
a lifetime of experience,
of unexpected joy and
unspeakable pain
ten children and a
tobacco farm,
kept out of trouble
because of you
you were up before
the sun,
caring for the animals,
preparing equipment
while we slept, deeply,
caught up in dreams
that had little to do
with bringing
the tobacco in
your wife,
my mother,
would make breakfast,
waking us with
our noses
you often came in
as we were finishing,
a cooling plate of
food waiting for you
on the countertop
you would
sip coffee,
take a few bites,
then head back out
most of us
would stumble outside
over the next hour or so,
though some of the girls
would stay inside,
on pretense of helping
mother clean up
the boys would, eventually,
start helping with
minor chores until,
at lunch, we would all
stop and pray
and eat and you
would assign to each of us
some bit of work for the day
teaching us,
without words,
that you, as
the bringer
of all we had, were
also setting an example,
preparing us to be
bringers
of our own
14 thoughts on "Bringer"
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exquisite ode. love it all especially the “cooling plate of
food / waiting for you / at the table”
Thank you so much, Gaby.
Love this. A beautiful tribute.
Thank you so much, Kevin.
What a heartfelt poem of well-deserved admiration!
Thank you so much, Nancy!
What a wonderful remembrance, I especially love the ending…
“preparing us to be
bringers
of our own”
Thank you so much, Leah!
This is such a poignant tribute, well done!
Thank you so much, jstpoetry!
Gorgeous piece. “waking us with/our noses” is such a tender moment
Thank you so much, Shaun. Growing up, we often woke to the smell of mother’s cooking!
Buddha reminds us to go home at Christmas to gather with our own to mesh our souls . . . love this calling up of a connection that lives on as we do in each other! Beautiful . . .
Good advice, indeed. Thank you, D’Rose!