Monday, 10 November 2008

Another week!

I have been thinking a lot lately about family resemblance. When my oldest grand-daughter comes to stay she always reminds me of myself at her age and sometimes, when I look in the mirror (I try not to do this very often as it is too depressing!) I see a look of my mother or my sister. Being the "baby" of the family I am now the only one left - brother, sister and both parents are long dead. It happened again yesterday when I caught a glimpse of myself as I passed the mirror and for a moment it so reminded me of my mother. It also reminded me of an incident on a train journey a couple of years ago.


The Dark Window.

Passing through a tunnel I saw
in the dark illuminated window
my mother.

Thick, dark hair streaked with grey;
deep-set brown eyes looking straight at me;
cheek bones high and sharp.

Then she was gone!
We burst out into the light
and I travelled on
alone.

23 comments:

Gramma Ann said...

That is quite interesting, I think it happens to all of us at sometime in our life. I too, am the "baby" of the family, which they never stop calling me no matter how old I get.;)
Anyway, I am now experiencing the looking in the mirror and seeing my mother or sisters looking back. And it is just a certain way you hold your hear or mouth, I say hey! that's not me...the poem in conclusion summed it up pretty well. I loved it. May I quote it sometime?

Gramma Ann

Gramma Ann said...

"head" not "hear" LOL

Dominic Rivron said...

I really like this poem. However, perhaps it's just me, but I would consider swapping round the second and third lines.

The Solitary Walker said...

I like this too - but I disagree with Dominic. I think the 2nd & 3rd lines are just fine as they are. 'Mother' right at the end captures perfectly the sense of sudden surprise.

Kyfarmlife said...

Its perfect, and sad too. Do you write these? they are beautiful. I say dont change a thing, its your words and the beauty comes from the words YOU wrote from your heart! And the heart says its best at all times!

The Weaver of Grass said...

Of course, gramma ann. It is good to think that we all get these feelings, isn't it.

The Weaver of Grass said...

You are probably right, Dom. I had them the other way round to start with!

The Weaver of Grass said...

Good point solitary walker!

The Weaver of Grass said...

Thanks for the comment kyfarmlife. Yes I did write the poem.

Pamela Terry and Edward said...

Wonderful poem. Really.
I look like my father. I have a photograph of him taken during WWII when he was in the Navy. It looks like me in a sailor suit.

Janice Thomson said...

Beautifully written Weaver.
Love the haunting nostalgia here. Funny how a certain scene, smell or noise can stir past memories.

acornmoon said...

A very beautiful piece of writing which I can relate too very well. I was always the baby of the family, now I can see the face of my older sister and my grandmother when I look in a mirror. I have no grandchildren so I am rather envious!

Jo said...

A beautifully reflective piece of writing, in both senses.

We don't seem to mind looking like our mothers... it's when we hear ourselves sounding like them that the panic sets in (lol)

Poet in Residence said...

Quite worrying. I also have this experience, and a bit too often, nearly every morning in the bathroom I see my long-gone grandad, especially after a night on the beer.

S.L. Corsua said...

I love the slow-motion 'feel' of the second stanza, like stretching the seconds to count as years. The length of the poem also complements the briefness of the moment. Thank you for sharing this. I am reminded of the countless times my mother and her brothers keep telling me I remind them of their own mother's face, as though greeting them once again. Cheers.

Elizabeth said...

My mother once said she was out shopping and happened to glance into a plate glass window.
"Who can that awful old lady be?"she asked herself.
Hm........

Arija said...

Yes,yes,yes!
When we flew to Andamooka for my first granddaughter's 2nd. birthday, we stayed the night at a motel and were a little tardy in rising when a knock came at the door and my daughter and tiny tots burst in. Little Rosie could no longer wait. I looked from bed towards the door and was spellbound and thrown back into childhood as my two year old reflection beamed at me. I was momentarily confused but managed to gather my wits and y grandchildren into my arms.

Rachel Fox said...

I like the poem - especially the 'dark illuminated window' (nice touch - simple, effective).

I don't look in mirrors much either.

x

Red Clover said...

I often wonder who came before those I know, and first began using that expression? Some distant and past relative I've no notion of, but has to know something of me. Does he laugh that we both roll our eyes in exactly the same way?

Your poem is a nice way to put it.

BT said...

Super poem weaver. I usually notice my mother in photos of myself. I am definitely turning into her! WE obviously have strong genes as my daughter, sons and grandchildren (except one) all look like me!! The women also have the same voice. Lovely post.

Crafty Green Poet said...

lovely poem and I'd keep the second and third lines the way they are....

I take after my Dad more than my Mum. Some people think I'm identical to my sister.

My Dad has a brother who looks increasingly like him as they get older.

The Weaver of Grass said...

Gosh, everyone, this has really struck a chord hasn't it? Arija throws us all a lifeline when she sees herself in her grand-daughter - I really relate to all those comments about catching glimpses in shop windows, mirrors etc. it could be depressing if you let it be. Soldier on!

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