Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #60
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/
gritty, fetid, filthy, faces, twilight, home,
broken, empty, cabbage, vow, streetcar, same
The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #252
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
itch, track, nights, spring, willing, mission,
bell, sense, lost, stand, pay, gloss
Poets United: Poetry Pantry #303
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/
Trading Vows
At first it was just an unreachable itch
this mission to understand how she’d lost
home. An empty sense of difference, never
knowing why she couldn’t be treated
the same as her siblings. She was broken.
Following gritty tracks of memory through
innumerable nights, willing herself to stand
firm, vowing to not give up until the face
of truth was found and would ring its clear
streetcar bell of reality for all to hear.
Then, on a spring day, realized she’d almost
reached the twilight years of her life. Had
paid far too a high a price mucking over filthy
past and its fetid smell of a cabbage patch
left too long after picking. Vowed instead,
to seek the gloss of each new moment, breathe
in its freshness, and know peace in that hard
won acceptance.
Elizabeth Crawford 5/22/16
Notes: Distantly biographical. Once lived about a mile and a half from Franksville, WI, manufacturer of Frank’s Sauerkraut. For a day or two, every fall, it was best to close all windows, turn up the air conditioner, and let the wind and rain disperse the smell of over ripe cabbage from the miles of farmland that surrounded us. Was living there when I found poetry, its inherent truth and its seemingly magical healing powers.
Image is a photo taken at the Botanical Gardens in Green Bay.
Soul's Music 
Almost everywhere one lives has a unique scent, All sorts of farming is very much on the nose; luckily I lived in a town with two breweries! However it is still good to get away.
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That smell from cabbage can be nauseating… I lived close to a coffee roaster once, and that made me an addict.
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and know peace in that hard
won acceptance….
Sigh… beautifully poignant.
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It’s true.. many of us tend to meander in the cabbage patch for far too long…
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What a wonderful way to find poetry.. perhaps when we have to close the window and be with ourselves we are forced to look..to feel and maybe even accept – that itch is so relatable.. home is the hardest thing to lose..find.. and explain to others what is missing.. you have done that wonderfully here.. and a very wise vow..
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I like the way that you worked the reality of the smell of the cabbage patch into meaningful poetry. We do need to seek the gloss of each new moment – despite the sometimes lingering fetid smells.
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Cabbage does have a very strong scent that lingers in the air. Interesting poetry can be found in the most unusual places.
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i love the final vow showing wisdom…an amazing wordler you are 🙂
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i always find it extremely challenging writing from given words, your poem journeyed in triumph in this challenge
“to seek the gloss of each new moment, breathe
in its freshness, and know peace in that hard
won acceptance.”
Happy Sunday Elizabeth
much love…
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She came to her senses! Better late than never, so I applaud her, the one who will now “seek the gloss of each new moment.”
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Even without the note you provide, this poem is so rich in symbols and wonderful details. I really liked the idea of the cabbage, over-picked. This really stuck with me, and I think might be the most important image in the poem.
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Ha, that smell of cabbage makes for a very pungent poem, smiles. Loved it. There does come a tgime when being here now feels more spirit-friendly, than poking over the rubble of the past. I resonated with this piece.
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I love it when a person (real or not) finds their way into fulfilment. An uplifting poem, Elizabeth.
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Well you sure used that cabbage smell to good effect, lol!
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There is more than one way to experience the rotten cabbage patch. Hopefully we don’t fill our bags and drag them around for others to experience, too.
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Wonderfull and great advice too!
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I hope your search is successful. The only way is up.
Visit Keith’s Ramblings
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to seek the gloss of each new moment, breathe
in its freshness, and know peace in that hard
won acceptance.
There is hope that the elusive peace will show its presence. Great ending Elizabeth!
Hank
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