A Prose Poem? Never created in this form before — sort of like a short story, but shorter and more musical? And so begins the Cherished Series.
Uncle Jim
We hadn’t seen each other in more than twenty years. Now, here I am, watching him peer out of a torn screen door in a mobile home park. I feel his thinness in our hug.
He leads me into the kitchenette where a yellow Tupperware pitcher of pink lemonade sits on the table. There are two metal glasses, one red and one purple. The sticky cardboard can, on its side in the sink.
He listens for a while, to the latest stories about my kids. Do you have any pets? Before I can answer his eyes glance down and he starts talking about Cindy, the black lab he had for so many years. You remember Dickie, my second wife? Well, she just didn’t like dogs and so I couldn’t….. and his voice trails off. This seems like a nice park I say, filling in the silence. Oh I love the dances and the bingo parties. All the ladies want to dance with me since Dickie died. But I’m not up to any of it so much anymore.
It took an hour to walk the small grocery store. We came back with ten cans of soup, applesauce packs, a quart of nonfat milk, some Comet and three chicken pot pies.
On my way to his place I was thinking it would be nice to see Uncle Jim in his twilight years. But it’s dark going home and I never did see any fireflies lighting up the sky.
Sad.
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Yes – the poem is meant to have that emotion . In reality – it was very sad to drive away as I’d lost my youthful memories of him, replaced by these. He always seemed so tall to me. We did also take him to a restaurant for supper – and there we had many smiles. He was a very very special man.
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Lillian,
This is an exquisite and honest tribute to your Uncle Jim. I’m sure all the ladies wanting to dance with him, saw the vibrant life once there.
am:)
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Thanks….he was a very very special man 🙂
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I’m sure he was – and I’m equally sure somewhere, Uncle Jim is smiling and dancing 🙂
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