Poem Starting with a Line from Norman Dubie
NaPoWriMo prompts #13 – from the first line of a Norman Dubie poem
The morning’s mail rises up the stairwell[1]
a wake of awakening on lizards' toes
and plumage-feathered tails.
Postcards from miniscule islands mingle at the
landing window, basking in the shadow
of a dusty, wilted philodendron.
Chinese food menus and lost pet flyers
rain down from above as a door slams
scuffing across a welcome mat askew.
The bank of metal mailboxes groans,
longing to be unlocked and fall forward
in a relieving heave of hinges.
Too many bills, too many bank statements
and not enough tangos, waltzes, be-bops from the
tips of fountain pens, ballpoints, bright crayons.
No one in the building is aware that this
set of worn steps and rattling windowpanes
is haunted by the ghosts of first class.
[1] from “Not the Bathing Tank at Madras: A Romance”, Norman Dubie, published in Blackbird, Spring 2008 (v7n1)
I love this! I found myself feeling sad that all anyone was getting was bills. Almost no one sends card anymore, do they? Anyway, this is wonderful take on the selected line. It felt like the mail had a lifeforce of its own.
ReplyDeleteWonderful stuff. Your language is lively, lush and lovely.
ReplyDelete