Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Place poem - We Write Poems

Nurse Log

Your son naps beneath mural of Grove of The Patriarchs,
on hot Texas afternoon, sweaty sleepy, post park,
You nurse him on his own big bed, kiss damp curls,.
in the room that was yours until you made it his,
the room I decorated with rainbows for you
before you were born, the room from which I rescued
you at three from raging midnight flames, the room
whose furniture you rearranged so many teen age nights,
the room in which "You are My Sunshine".still echoes.
in the voice of your father, dead before memories settled.

You left at seventeen, started college early, found love,
made a home, made art, longed for babies, cried, laughed,
built strong marriage, took your husband to your sanctuary,
of cool misty air, soft filtered light, life rising from life.
Grove of the Patriarchs on slopes of Mt. Ranier,
took off your shoes and lay, silent, vulnerable, still
within ancient circle of holy trees, barren among
nurse logs, You lost a daughter, gave birth to a son,
brought him home to your grove within his own room.
Your son naps beneath mural of Grove of Patriarchs.

Victoria Hendricks
May 25, 2010


  1. I don't see comments here so I must not have commented yet on your blog. I do love where this took you--several different places in this if you include the old room a different place than what it is now. I love to see us all stretch.

  2. Ah, Victoria. How heartfelt, wonderfully cognizant of time and love. Really liked how you brought this poem full circle to the nap beneath the mural of Grove of Patriarchs.


  3. I like where you went with this....thanks for sharing your words

  4. This is a lovely cycle, three novels in a few lines.

  5. A wonderful place poem, Victoria. So much family history in your house. Wonderful to picture your daughter nursing her young son in the room she grew up in as a child!

  6. I love thinking about all the family history beneath the mural Growth of Patriarchs. This poem is a treasure for your family.

  7. Thank you for the appreciative comments, all of you - definitelk a poem oof mine I like and one I never would have written without the prompt.