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Sunday, September 21, 2014

Great-Grandmother







Great-Grandmother

"was it the war that made you great?"
the small child asked, searching her
face for expression like a gold miner
searching for the telltale gilt glimmer
It was neither memories nor malice that
kept her face still,  as the past pulled her
tumbling back, as she crossed the old ocean that
returned her once again from the sea of the murdered
to give to this live tousled haired child a small smile as the
little one retraced with soft innocent fingertips faded blue numbers
forever pulsing with the fire of hell and hope across the cloistered chambers of her heart








12 comments:

  1. A delightful scene, the old and the young jell so well together.
    And you managed to fit in miner! Bravo.

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    1. Thank you Viv - have not been able to get over to read anything yet - but shall - much appreciate your comment :)

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  2. So much power tumbling through these words...so big the final thoughts need to be made small to fit..I love those blue faded numbers and the smile...subtle..enigmatic and captivating verse...

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    1. Thank you Jae Rose - so very much appreciated - delighted you enjoyed :)

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  3. The faded blue numbers on her wrist never letting her forget those memories of the camps. 70 years later and still there is so much religious and racial hate. How reluctant we are to learn.

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    1. It is often eerily true - Today on this "Peace Day" let us hope it will be different :) ... if not now ... someday....

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  4. Is hope, too, a fire? That's what I'm gathering from your poem. Maybe one day the fires of hell burn bright, but then the next day the fires of hope burn brighter.

    Whirling with Amy

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    1. Yes - this poem pretty raw - but yes, I do believe and intended hope to be a fire as well - and you interpreted perfectly that one day the hell burn burns bright but next day the fires of hope burn brighter... Thank you :)

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  5. That small blue tattoo packs a wealth of information. It brought back memories of both the holocaust (did a lot of reading years back), and another concerning my own granddaughter. When told that the white-haired woman (my mother), was her great grandmother, she forever referred to her afterward, as "Grandma Great".

    Elizabeth

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    1. Sweet sharing of your granddaughter's comment :). Precisely the kind of wonderful innocence I was hoping to convey :) Thank you so very much for stopping by :)

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    2. Powerful and all too familiar... Thanks for the power of hope!

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  6. This is really strong and sweet after the bitterness of the past. I love the first line. That innocence holding the truth.

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