I decided to share another of my poems this month. One of the things I love about writing my family history in poetry is that I’m not necessarily restricted to just the facts, which, let’s face it, are sometimes few and far between.But every single one of us likes to speculate about what those facts mean, or their effects on our ancestors.
Poetry lets me do this.Family secret #5
He stole butter, sugar, a carton
of eggs and sixteen oranges
and was let off with a note
in his file and a month’s less
pay. I’d like to think
he wooed her, without remorse
with a syrupy cake,
that they laughed about it
together for years, that he
baked it for her on special
occasions and that he hoped
to pass the recipe – the story – on
so he could always be remembered
that way.
Knowing
the truth about their future, I
imagine she probably wished
she could have remembered
him like that
too.
This poem was previously published in Going Down Swinging No.33
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