I’m not sure whether it is sad or glad, or if we even should know. Very intimately projected. You’re too clever.
Not really, cal… the thought came from when I saw an old woman sitting next to her husband in their shiney new volvo and it was driving really slow, really slow. It just sent my mind all a whirl. You know how it is 🙂
Doing things out of habit. Joy gone out of life. Age has caught up with them. Hoping sound will cover up the missing conversation… What a sad poem, Kiersty.
But is it sad? That contentment and mundanity? I can’t decide. My great aunt and uncle were very similar and I wondered at the time how they were so very happy… but they were. Ohhh, I’m sure I’ll find out one day, haha. Thank you so much for your comment.
An interesting debate here: is it sad or contented? What I think is terrific about this poem is that the mood is not defined for the reader: the circumstances are described, so tellingly, the conclusions or the mood left to us to determine for ourselves. And it is all so delicately done.
I like the form of the poem too: two lines at the beginning, reflected in two lines at the close – both ambiguous and in perfect harmony with the ambiguity of the mood.
It’s a tricky balance this one between appearing to have ‘given up (or in)’, or just simply being ‘contented’ and ‘comfortable’. Perhaps it is only a mystery to solve through experience … a thinking poem as usual Kiersty. xx
Super. Why doesn’t he drive like he did? Cry like he did?
Ak. And then…what’s his gaze at me?
Shriek! Better love him while I can then, hadn’t I?
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