A brick path
buckled between street and house front
sneaks around
to the side yard
where sheets of laundry
dangle to snap
on a line
out of sight
Sheets bleached so white
they fade to a mother-of-pearl shade of shale
like their small companions
suspended there in the air
the cream blue napkins
pale flags of surrender from yesterday’s dinner
pegged with odors of lilac
and fried chicken
A woman
fortified behind the cotton shield of an apron
faces the window over a sink
peeling thoughts of regrets
like red gold apples skins into a bowl
in the wonderment of how her time
had simmered past
slow
never a boil
ever thickening near the end
Onions are not the only reason
for tears in the eyes
Another
afternoon
underdone
another day to brew
to cater to
the nourishment of others
For A’keith (Gray) Walters, it all began on a cold, wet, and windy night in January of 1956. Actually, the weather was quite nice and balmy since it was in Houston, Texas. He received his B.A. in English Literature in 1978 when he also became an avid collector of black and white photographs. His poetry has appeared in a number of literary magazines. When not writing, Gray fills his spare time by dabbling in the three “R’s”: Reading, wRiting, and Really enjoying himself. Of course naps are a plus for inspiration.
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10 Responses to “TUESDAYS • by A'keith Walters”
Comments
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February 24th, 2009 at 2:26 am
This has a nice sound to it, and some really good images. I like the sheets snapping on the line.
February 24th, 2009 at 3:36 am
Such a nice melancholy edge edge to this, Gray. I like it; gave it a five.
February 24th, 2009 at 5:44 am
Very good poem. A lament for wasted life.
February 24th, 2009 at 11:16 am
Some wonderful imagery…
February 24th, 2009 at 12:22 pm
I loved this, it got to the place that only good poetry can.
Thank you.
February 24th, 2009 at 1:01 pm
I don’t like much free verse, but this poem was different. I noticed the striking imagery right away, and that was a bonus, but I still wasn’t sure about it. I thought it was going to be a simple vignette merely describing a scene, but the ending was wonderful. Everything after the “Onions are not the only reason” really wrapped it up well. I also enjoyed some of the lines before it, especially the one about being “fortified behind the cotton shield of an apron”.
Congrats to you, Mr. Walters, for writing such a wonderful poem, and to EDP for publishing some quality work.
February 24th, 2009 at 5:46 pm
Nice piece of poem. The personality peeling one’s own and appealing too have touched me. The honest melancholic tone of a solitary struggle hangs in the air.
Thank you, A’Keith.
February 25th, 2009 at 12:05 am
This poem is really evocative, one to read and re-read.
February 25th, 2009 at 5:28 am
Great poem gray. The imagery here paints a picture that will stay in my mind all day
February 25th, 2009 at 11:31 am
Some poems are beautiful simply because the words flow together with rhythm. You have combined that with great imagery. Well done.
Richard Lamb