He’d set off to school that first day
shirt, tie and cloth cap, under it a toothless smile
his duffle coat buttoned to the chin
it was September after all, and mother wouldn’t allow
the autumn chill to bite his nape
no, that wouldn’t do at all
He’d come home one time in the spring
but the shirt, a larger size of course
was gaping this time, some buttons gone
just white thread hanging loose, like his mouth
which spilt words of incomprehensible rage
it wasn’t his fault, he’d just been defending himself
Ten and several more summers since then
he’d grown enough to meet my gaze
and on that day we sat a while, shoulder to shoulder
for a heart to heart, and he smiled (her crooked smile)
as I told him how much I wished his mother
had been the one to button down and polish up today
But we supposed that she’d been watching all along
and I fumbled with that top button once more
then passed him to the woman of his dreams
soon to bear my family name, and all that remained
was to wonder if a harsh winter would come for me
now that someone else could fasten my boy’s buttons
Awww… so hard to see your child has been in a fight. This was so loving, gentle and, I imagine it’s difficult for any mother to let go of their son to another woman too.
A lovely read.
It’s actually meant to be a father and son, mother has been gone since the boy was a child. Glad you enjoyed it either way.
smiles..they grow into men and find their way… the last part made my heart ache a bit, wishing the mother could be there..
Thanks Claudia. I was thinking of you the other day when I wrote my poem Einfühlung… wondered if it was an expression you used often?! Lovely to have you comment.
a couple of tough times here….seeing your kid after a scrap…and knowing you were not there to protect him…then giving him away for another to care for…i think the second one might hurt a bit more….
Hope you spotted that it is a bereaved father and son in the narrative, am worried i have been too ambiguous! thanks Brian.
Perhaps a bit too vague, Vanessa. I thought it to be a sister fussing over a little brother. Sorry!
That would be nice too. Perhaps its also because you know i’m a woman so that led you? I thought the references to mother wouldn’t like it, and the boy having her crooked smile, and being grown enough to meet my gaze would imply man to man stuff… hmmm, oh well, make of it whatever you need to.
I didn’t think it was vague – I thought it was moving. Nicely done!
Phew! Thank you Anna…. calm is restored here xx
Def got the bereaved father / son – a hauntingly evocative poem with wonderful words, the tone is so right
Oh great, thanks Polly xx
so much pain, and it’s the buttons that hold the fabric of the family together
3 radio button senryu
Indeed it is, thank you x
I knew it was a father about halfway, I think you get your point across nicely–in fact I was just about to say how well you got into the skin of a male character and told the story. I also think the mood is just right, a blend of nostalgia, old grief and both hope and fear for the future.
Yay! Thank you so much. I felt if i had spelt it out more I would have been telling not showing. Although I dont mind how people read it so long as it brings them some pleasure in the end xx
So poignant and wonderful, Vanessa. I figured from your photo and the reference to an absent mother meant father and son…….anyway, it is tender and heartfelt, and the wondering about the winter waiting now his boy was leaving is pitch-perfect.
Thank you so much Sherry, delighted that it worked for you and especially that you picked up on the winter x
I’m another one who could tell it was a father and son right away. Right away in the first stanza, the ‘mother’ is spoken about as a different person so it could not be mother/son. And in another place the mother is spoken ABOUT as well. And in another stanza, the man is talking about the son’s chosen bride as someone who will have the family name, which sounds like a male speaking (as it would be his name). Anyway, long and short of it, I thought the poem worked well and wouldn’t change a thing.
You got it Mary! Thank you for your kind observation during reading, those are exactly the clues I had laid out xx
Yes, father and son… A lifetime family story told in so few words.
Thank you, yes a quick spin through the seasons of one family.
I initially thought it was a mother and son poem but it looks like a father and son specially with the wedding ~ The ending was melancholy (harsh winter) but hopefully with grandchildren, it will keep him young ~
http://a-sweetlust.blogspot.ca/2012/06/koan-poems-sepia-sky-and-faded-lace.html
Thank you, glad you got it x
Ahh–I kept thinking sister too, but I think I have some sense that your mother is gone from other poems – I’m sorry if not right – I think it’s a lovely poem whether sister or father; the poignancy of loss and missing, and yet going on all here. It is very hard to blog from other voices – you do it well with meet my gaze. Maybe something in the stanza of him coming home from the fight? Some sense of recognition or remembrance ? I’m not sure it matters as a lovely poem no matter what, but just a thought. k.
You are right that she is gone, but this piece is a total work of fiction and in spite of the apparent parallel, it is not based in any way on my own experience. Glad you enjoyed it either way!
I also thought it was a mother and son on first reading Vanessa, but saw what I missed reading it the second time round when I knew.
Maybe you could change the title to clear that up at the beginning?
Well written
I did think about calling it Father and Son it thought it would be too predictable, I had hoped the picture of a child walking on a mans shoes would give a hint instead.
Heartwarming, in a non-cloying sort of way.
Thank you, very kind of you to say so.
I was reminded of a piece I read in a paper many years ago of a man bringing up three sons after his wife died. When they were teenagers so too old for hugs, he did sport massage so they had a much needed loving touch without admitting that’s what they missed. The central image of the button tidied as a last loving touch was very evocative.
What a touching story, thank you for sharing and thank you for your kind comment.
A very touching story. “he’d grown enough to meet my gaze”: how beautiful. I really like how I was first misled and thought it was the mom talking. Using the voice of the father is certainly more original. Good work.
Thank you, and yes my intention was to mislead a little and then lay subtle clues to reveal the twist in perspective. Very much appreciate your thoughts x
A beautiful story…buttons can bring so many memories. I loved how you weaved them through this one.
Thank you Susie xx
Enjoy the buttons unfolding the passage of time and growth, lovely expression ~ Rose
Thank you Rose, appreciate your comment x
I love the tenderness and subtlety here. The progression of time that unfolds with our children and ultimately picks them up on some sort of tide and washes them away in space, distance, mindset or something. They’re never quite the same as when they were young and growing up.
Thanks Gay, great to see you back here commenting x
This is gorgeous, the back story and the frog in the throat moment at the end. Literal buttons, artfully crafted
Thank you so much, that’s really kind of you and I am incredibly grateful for your compliment x
A great telling of a father letting go his son, how little the gap seems from first day of school to growing up, and then the day comes when son is to be his own man. The realization, that they have gone on to a different stage of life. A lot of love within without being over-sentimental.
Thank you, really pleased that you think so.
beautiful concept – carefully employed to evoke sentiment and not wallow in sentimentality.. nicely done V
Thank you Becky, that was one of my aims xx
Beautiful…………I love these children of yours – the creation of poem mated with story. ~ Lovely, Vanessa. ~ Bobbie
Thanks Bobbie, I’m trying on a bit of story telling to see how it fits… And so far I kinda like it! Wonder what will wash up in my head next…. Xxx
I love the way love and sorrow and blessing is wrapped into this poem button by button, stanza to stanza, and that a father’s consciousness of this feminine task is how he thinks of the letting go. Bravo. I have tears in my eyes while thinking of this loss and my losses, eequally graced.
Wonderful comment Susan, although I don’t want to see you cry of course! Delighted to have been able to evoke your emotions xx thank you.
Really enjoyed the way you unfolded the life of a boy through a mother’s eyes.
Beautiful sentiment.