I loved the seven moonbeams on the lawn. A perfect memory about fireflies. I wish we had them in the West, but I guess the frogs and toads singing with the crickets and cicadas will have to do. Thank you, Matt. (Didn't the TV knob just fit back on? I did for me. Hmmm. Also, Dad played with the tubes so often, I guess none of us caught hell for breaking something.)
Any excuse will do. My mom was fairly liberal with the physical punishments. A slap here, a kick there. I'd like to blame it on the generation as that was undoubtedly how their parents dealt with them, but also that generation had a lot to be angry about. If they didn't, they'd go out looking for it.
I so loved the poem itself, the salted memory of lasting hurts. The 2nd stanza is wondrous. Such a complete story in so few lines. I enjoy when that happens. "A light so strange, the memory seems impossible: a lucid dream, but I remember..." and then the disappointment. Disbursing and disturbing. A common thread in our childhood delights, the interruption of wonder.
I myself follow both fireflies and especially mantis. As wallpaper, a unique photo of a magnificent Hawaiian mantis revives me daily. It landed in the sunlight on the white front roof of a parked car, surrounded by gardens not long ago. My camera caught the tawny stick with lifted torso, the long neck at the very tip of which eyes the likes of black cavior eggs, stared unafraid at me for long enough that I was afraid a bird might catch it up, and so would my camera catch it's demise. The mantis only looks fragile. Its jaws and front claws can dismantle almost any other insect, and even a mouse in certain circumstances. Both the mantis and the firefly are considered mythical creatures. Like the poem, Ned. Beauty and its undoing, singular moments of solitary and sorry revelation.
so lovely and tender. oh those injustices of childhood, how they stay with us along with the pain. beautiful writing, Matt.
So agree. Tender is so fine here, Tabby. Thanks for that. Constance
I loved the seven moonbeams on the lawn. A perfect memory about fireflies. I wish we had them in the West, but I guess the frogs and toads singing with the crickets and cicadas will have to do. Thank you, Matt. (Didn't the TV knob just fit back on? I did for me. Hmmm. Also, Dad played with the tubes so often, I guess none of us caught hell for breaking something.)
Right? It was a total slidey thing that fit right back onto the television set.. Not that big a deal, Pop-Pop! :D
He always seemed to have a lot of pent-up anger.
Any excuse will do. My mom was fairly liberal with the physical punishments. A slap here, a kick there. I'd like to blame it on the generation as that was undoubtedly how their parents dealt with them, but also that generation had a lot to be angry about. If they didn't, they'd go out looking for it.
I so loved the poem itself, the salted memory of lasting hurts. The 2nd stanza is wondrous. Such a complete story in so few lines. I enjoy when that happens. "A light so strange, the memory seems impossible: a lucid dream, but I remember..." and then the disappointment. Disbursing and disturbing. A common thread in our childhood delights, the interruption of wonder.
I myself follow both fireflies and especially mantis. As wallpaper, a unique photo of a magnificent Hawaiian mantis revives me daily. It landed in the sunlight on the white front roof of a parked car, surrounded by gardens not long ago. My camera caught the tawny stick with lifted torso, the long neck at the very tip of which eyes the likes of black cavior eggs, stared unafraid at me for long enough that I was afraid a bird might catch it up, and so would my camera catch it's demise. The mantis only looks fragile. Its jaws and front claws can dismantle almost any other insect, and even a mouse in certain circumstances. Both the mantis and the firefly are considered mythical creatures. Like the poem, Ned. Beauty and its undoing, singular moments of solitary and sorry revelation.
Gorgeous
Thank you, M Sebastian.
I appreciate you taking the time to read my poem today.
Cheers!
“The next night seven moonbeams shone on the lawn.”
It brought many childhood memories of summer to the front of my brain
Thank you