The Last Goodbye - (final)

[Marion Poirier]

The Last Goodbye


Thoughts turn to an evening
when Ma's eyes spilt tears.
This will always be your home.
Sisters watched, silent mirrors
through the falling gloom.
I kissed each face goodbye.

Absent from the table,
my father's presence resonated
in the occasional thump
from the bakery below.

The alarm clock rang at dawn;
scents of baking bread and sawdust
drifted upstairs from the bakery.

One last glance around the tiny room,
a storage closet turned sanctuary
after the birth of twin girls -
a decade's end as Papa's Princess.

Old dolls, discarded on box tops,
stared with glass eyes at the closing door.

Papa's shadow loomed on the wall -
a giant eagle reflected in flames
cast by the black oven.
He wiped forehead sweat with a rag –
stoic, waiting for me to speak.

Under the bare hanging bulb,
his face appeared sallow, weary;
we embraced without words -
for the last time.

M. A. Poirier


-----------------------------------------------------

[bulerias]

For those of us who had a father figure who meant the world to us, this poem really cuts to the bone -- and I mean that in the most positive way. Truly beautiful words blend with your spirit and that of your loving family.

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you so much, Bulerias (wish I knew your first name).
I am very appreciative of any responses I receive here;
wish there were more.
Thanks again for your kind words.

Marion

[determinedtofail]

Marion,

I wanted to reply to this yesterday right after you posted it. You opened yourself up here in a way that I was not used to from some of your other poems that I have read. I think this poem has good direction, resonates vulnerable and strong.

Here are some suggestions I had. Not sure if they will work well with your taste or not:

Waking in the dark at four a.m.,
I prepared for a hasty departure
while my mother and sisters slept.
My thoughts turned to the last evening.
(A little too much is stated for me by that second line. I thought the next stanza indicates your departure well. Thought hasty was unneeded 4am is a hasty time for many people)

Her eyes tearing, Ma hugged me.
This will always be your home.
The twins, Marie and Rita,
born when I was ten Ewatched
I kissed each sad face goodbye.
through the falling gloom.
(Sad and goodbye are a little too cliche for me. Think this arrangement gives a better mixture of past- taking care of those twins, present sad goodbye, and also alludes to future reflections when you know you will look back on those moments)

my father's presence resonated
in the occasional thump
from the bakery below.
(Love this, makes me picture not just a bakery, but some old man working on a car, fixing a sink, or something. Has a good truthful timeless sense to it.)

Thank You,

---Austin

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you very much, Austin for your wonderful
suggestions. Your ideas make the poem read
much better; you pointed out the
extraneous details that I couldn't see
being too close to the work.

I shall revise soon incorporating most of
your suggestions.

Marion

[mfwilkie]

M, Do you still have the original of this,
or am I remembering another poem?

Some good stuff on a first read.

Maggie

[Marion Poirier]

Maggie, thank you for the read and
for asking. It has been posted before
but rewritten extensively.

I have many revisions of this one; it has
changed so that the only part that is
the same is the one above the black
oven spitting in the morning and
the last confrontation with the narrator's
father.

There were no details about the
mother and sisters or the dolls that were
added later. I expanded on the relationship
with the family - the other was between
the father and the daughter - a much more
narrow focus, when she left home. I've
been working on it for several years.

I'm sure I have some of the other versions; but
even I, like this one.

Any suggestions
to improve, Maggie,
as you know, are appreciated.

Marion

[mfwilkie]

M, I keep reading this and keep going back to the original version of this poem you worked on
which I thought was amazing. If I'm remembering correctly, Lynn also thought your final revisions to that poem were quite something.

If you can find it, I'd really like to see it again.

Don't be offended but this seems like a pale shadow of the original one.

My strongest and honest urgings would be for you to combine the two of them.

Maggie

[Marion Poirier]

The latest version on this one. I've written several different
poems on this family so I'm not sure which poem you are
referring to Maggie.

Marion

[Ron Buck (halfshell)]

Marion:

I seem to recall a similiar version of this or least one that worked with this theme, I think it was more about the father and daughter, but I could be wrong. In any case the narrator in this version works more on event narration and less on commentary and thus for me makes the poem so much more expansive. You use language to move into the heart and not create wakes of unnecessary poetic plumbs that pull the reader away from the focus. You work your transitions well and keep the flow/tempo even so at the end you create a powerful moment that propels beyond the verbiage. You can't ask for more... except your own tinkering spirit revisiting places only you can explore.

tidings
ron