Beyond the Bannister
there are weevils within
Dear readers,
I wrote this in 2021 but it feels particularly resonant right now. I hope you agree.
xox
M
Beyond the Bannister
My uncle lives in a beautiful house,
proud of the hand-carved bannister,
the broad porch.
I’ve always been welcome here,
free to come and go.
A genial man, my uncle.
Rumor has it he’s dying.
How can this be?
He looks fine.
But instinct whispers it’s true.
I squint through the dimming light
and for the first time,
see beyond the ornate bannister:
floorboards eaten from weevils within,
the porch spongy under my feet.
He smiles with all his teeth
and no eyes
and I know he wants me to stay,
sit with him on his collapsing porch
while his heart misfires
and his breathing labors to an end.
“Do your duty,” he wheezes,
but there are others who love him,
sons and daughters, and they will stay
no matter what.
I ponder: shall I leave before
the structure falls? I’m only his niece,
after all
Your poem has a haunting flavor; the impending loss of a whole country - what do citizens do? Stay or go? I found reading it unearthed a sadness I don't typically notice - at this level, at a country level. We're so cynical (for good reason) and that so easily hides sadness.
Thank you Mary, your composition, penetrated. And yes, very resonant right now. Best.
From the front yard it didn't take me but a moment ta declare "an' Bobs yer Uncle!" (meanin' this too is 'bout Uncle Sam--our "mutual" uncle)--so that leaves us ALL as nieces, nephews, cousins, "relations".... Engaged yet remote....a mite removed, kin--but not so immediate. We give ourselfs permission ta leave... Unlike them Sons & Daughters of Liberty who feel so close, who stay. Most are now old an' frail but yet loyal to their patriarch, sure. They meet in the Veterans Halls & Free Library Spaces monthly, sharin' mem'ries, ol' photos, letters--an' tales of medical procedures, pacemakers, neuralgias. They know of the past, of the House, far more than us nieces & nephews, even those've us that visited often back in the day. In fact, they knew whin that bannister wuz wrought, they mebbe even knew when the porch wuz added, when the floor wuz solid, when they gotta real 'lectric warsher. They 'member the storms an' vermin an' the repairs--ALWAYS back then repairs were made. This is so even if they cain't 'member whut they bought at the Piggly Wiggley 'er the Krogers 2 days ago. But tho' old, they are needed....still. Hard fer us "relatives" ta linger--painful ta wartch the "weevils" eat, slowly.... BUT we don't wanna say bye neither... that seems wrong too, no? Mebbe the way ta help Ol' Sam is ta keep in touch with the sons & daughters... still present in the past? liked this muchly tho' it leaves me dusty ;-)