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In the room of no
music
and unlit fires
she hangs between us.
Her fingers continue
to pound
the keys in my head
of all her
expectations on me,
her hopes in you.
© 2013 Jennifer
Wagner
I’m a bit late, but
this is for Margaret’s Artistic Interpretations at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads where she has invited us to concentrate on setting and mood as we write
to images she took of place miniatures at the Art Institute of Chicago.
Great piece. I especially love the ending.
ReplyDeleteThe power of nostalgia, eh? Brilliantly put, especially the ending.
ReplyDeletei feel the dichotomy between the two children...i was an oldest so i felt the expectation...and i like how you used the playing of the piano in this as well..
ReplyDeleteAgh! I love the piano metaphor mixed in with the portrait and the mix of siblings (I suppose) though it could also be a mother-in- law of the speaker and the mother of the hoped-for one. This is a wondeful poem but you know expectations are not all bad compared to hopes-- they do imply a sort of confidence. Take care, k. This is Manicddaily.
ReplyDeleteAs an older child, this resonated with me :)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem filled with nostalgia. Superb close as well.
ReplyDeleteI love your interpretation (and can relate) ~ Specially like the ending lines ~
ReplyDeleteThis is so clever and well done! I just love your approach :D
ReplyDeleteexcellent response to the prompt, Jennifer, as well as standing alone
ReplyDeleteI love the beginning of this piece: “In the room of no music and unlit fires”. A lot of poems build ambiance and tone, slowly. But here, the reader knows – right out of the gate – this in a room designed to stifle enjoyment. I think that by going to the oppressiveness of the place, immediately, the bleakness of the experience that the young writer felt there, is amplified.
ReplyDeleteOh... yes! I knew a poem for this room really needed to include that portrait... and what a poem! Nicely done, really!
ReplyDeleteOh, wow. Emotional onslaught in a few words. This is how I feel about my mother, though she's been gone over three years. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteLittle poem. BIG message. Expectations, aspirations, favoritism. They are right there in between the lines.
ReplyDeleteClever response to that picture. Pretty eery.
ReplyDeleteA very good poem! "She hangs between us" and "continue to pound..." - What strong lines.
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