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For all you fans of poetry and not so big fans…


I know it’s breaking the nice pattern of fantastic posts about getting involved in great causes, but I thought I’d post a poem. Feel free to ask questions, post criticism, and give insight.

Crying About the Gentleness

A day of forgetting
Not anything big,
Just the little stuff.
Like how it storms once a year
This year on the day you were visiting.
And we had to sit inside and open the game closet
To find a jigsaw puzzle.

So goes the gentleness,
Cracked right at the roots and fallen over into the road,
And no cars can pass until it’s been
Sawed and chopped into manageable pieces
And hauled away to a green waste dump.

I forget sometimes how small
The pieces of the day are and
How when I look at them individually
They are always crying because they are alone
Regretting the way everything went
And must now go into a small and dark page
Of a tired accordion file.

Brooke Willams
January 2006

Brooke

I am a children's librarian. I have 2 kids. I have a professor for a husband. I obsess about writing and about making things.

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  1. amelia says:

    brooke, this is beautiful. and i need to process it a bit so i can comment intelligently on it.

  2. Caroline says:

    Brooke, this is awesome. I need to think about it more to try to figure it out as well.

    – maybe I’m being too literal – but is the tree a metaphor for memories that need to be forgotten before life can go on? And are you then sort of undercutting that idea forgetting as progress (“no cars can pass until it’s been sawed” by mourning the fact that memories do necessarily become so fractured and forgotten?

  3. Brooke says:

    Caroline, don’t worry about being literal or not. I like your interpretation. I was definitely talking about how compartmentalizing or breaking large/overwhelming things up (including memories, feelings, tasks & goals) can have good and bad effects. Sometimes we need the big picture and sometimes we need to zoom in.

  4. jana says:

    lovely. as always! 🙂

  5. Mike says:

    Brooke,

    Your post reminds me of those little things that I forget to do but that rejuvinate me. Things you maybe could be called the gentle things in life.