sorting photos
long ago, it seems so long ago
all faded now to harvest gold and avocado green
glossy rectangles and squares declare it so
stiff sepia grooms and lacy brides that glow
coiled hair, dark lips, like 20’s starlets from the screen
long ago, it seems so long ago
hosts of people I don’t even know
so many lively smiles, eyes bright with hopeful sheen
glossy rectangles and squares declare it so
Saskatchewan toddler dressed like Eskimo
swaddled in mitts and scarves against the wind so keen
long ago, it seems so long ago
see how Mom made her prairie garden grow
thick marigold, begonia, phlox and climbing bean
glossy rectangles and squares declare it so
we gather with our cousins row on row
even then faces of our adult selves are seen
long ago, it seems so long ago
these glossy rectangles and squares declare it so
© 2012 by Violet Nesdoly
*****************
The Miss Rumphius Effect blog poetry stretch this Monday was to write a poem inspired by a photograph. It reminded me of the poem that I wrote a couple of summers ago, while I was sorting through my Mom’s stash of photos. (I was honored and delighted when “sorting photos” won first prize in the Canadian Stories 2012 Summer Contest this year, and was published the summer edition of the magazine.)
I also wrote a new poem for Trish’s prompt (not yet ready for prime time), as I find photos a never-ending source of inspiration.
This post is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by the lovely, witty, and multi-talented Renee M. LaTulippe at No Water River.
They are inspiring, and I’ll look for your next poem too, Violet. This is beautiful, with such a nostalgic rhythm, the refrain, “these glossy rectangles and squares declare it so.” Congratulations on the contest win and publishing.
Aw, thanks Linda. Old photos always transport me to another time and place.
Violet, your poem is wonderfully nostalgic. I love
“stiff sepia grooms and lacy brides that glow
coiled hair, dark lips, like 20’s starlets from the screen”
Old photographs also inspire me. In addition to being windows into other lives, they are passageways to dormant thoughts and ideas. I have yet to try a villanelle, but your poem makes me want to try.
Joyce, villanelles aren’t that difficult. The trick is to compose the repeating lines so they can multitask.
Well Done Violet! Congratulations on the recognition. Your poem really portrays the feeling and tenderness of the photos. I enjoyed trying this challenge from Trisha too. I look forward to reading more of your poems!
Thanks Andi! Trish’s challenges are always fun, and often stretching. I often use them to get my subconscious working on a poem- even though I don’t often post them in her comments.
Felt like I was there, with you showing me the photos yourself…really nice job, Violet. I love the colour references!
Thanks, Matt! I was also with you earlier this evening, gazing at the stars
Congratulations on your poetry prize! I’m not surprised that it won
Thank you, Tabatha. I actually was (surprised that it won… one enters contest after contest with no results, so first place is a wonderful surprise!)
Ah harvest gold and avocado green- I remember them well
Violet, your poem is magnificent, nostalgic and beautiful (and not an easy poetic form). I am not surprised you won first prize!
Thank you so much, Iza. if you remember harvest gold and avocado green, you are of a certain vintage…. as am I!
I love this! Thanks for sharing it.
Thanks so much, Ruth!
Congrats on the well-deserved win, Violet. This is just beautiful and nostalgic and full of images — and a villanelle to boot! Color me impressed.
I was impressed with your poemlets, Renee! Especially the one-worder challenge instigated by that Pat Lewis in cahoots with the Harrison fellow. My notebook is seriously jealous (it wants to own stuff like that too!)
Wow, Violet – this SHOULD have won first prize, so I’m happy to hear it did! Congratulations. I love villanelles, and this one is just gorgeous. Thanks for sharing. Perfect refrain in “long ago, it seems so long ago.”
Thanks so much, Robyn! A vlllanelle’s repetition seems suits nostalgia somehow. You think?
Lovely!