when i was very small…

When I was very small
The Blue Boy hung in
the living room, a space
where nothing really
happened. In contrast
the laundry room hugged
the backend of our house,
a nook snugged with weary
washer and dryer, two
reliable appliances who
along with our blue-collar
family of four witnessed
the black spaniel with gray
streaked ears give birth in
a cardboard box to damp
wonder my brother and I
held with trembling hands.
Our eyes were the stars
over that nativity, stars wide
and alive, like a smile of great
sweetness breaking out
over dusk’s blue dew.

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  1. llbarkat on April 26, 2012 at 2:58 pm

    a living room where nothing really happens. That’s some line.

    • thebeautifuldue on April 26, 2012 at 4:36 pm

      Some people might call it a parlor…that front welcoming room housed with things boys can break…thanks for stopping by, LLB.

  2. pastordt on April 26, 2012 at 3:38 pm

    I’m with LL – that is some line. And the whole poem is gorgeously layered with a kind of sweet/sad nostalgia. Thank you.

    • thebeautifuldue on April 26, 2012 at 4:39 pm

      Diana, you’re welcome…the cocker’s name was Tootsie, and I miss her from time to time.

  3. micksilva on April 26, 2012 at 6:29 pm

    Intrigued by the blue boy you speak of. Funny how my mind goes to gilded crucifixes. 🙂 “The stars over that nativity” I felt in the gut.

    Exquisite, John. Looking forward to that chapbook.

  4. whimzie on April 30, 2012 at 2:45 pm

    My grandparents had Blue Boy and Pinkie hanging over their couch. They seemed like family members at the time, but I haven’t thought about them in years. Thanks for the memory.

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