25 November 2009

A sonnet for thanksgiving. tell your parents just how thankful you are for them this weekend.

Remembering My Parents Remembering Books
They Read Together

by Rhina P. Espaillat

Imagine this: a railroad flat three flights
up half-lit stairs above a midtown street
where, decades past, my parents spend their nights
playing seventy-eights in August heat,
or dominoes with some post-dinner guest,
or, best of all––memory’s chosen scene––
speaking of books they love: maybe Beau Geste
or Don Quixote, War and Peace. Between
them, details spin: imaginary places––
or places real enough they’ll never see––
illuminate their young, remembered faces
with light enough to light the page for me.
So poor, so much endured as man and wife;
but blessed by this one bond that held for life.

Copyright © 2000 by Rhina P. Espaillat

No comments:

Post a Comment