Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Tag: Poetry

March 6, 2014

passing through

passing through
silent white headstones
urge me on

* * * * *

Sister #3
who showed me
how to live and how to die

My Colleague
who told his family story
with tears streaming down his face

My Piano Teacher
who knew me inside out
and told me I needed a boyfriend

My Mother
who began to know me
inside out and longed to know more

My Brother-in-Law
who never told anything
but the full blunt-naked truth about life

My Theology Professor
who encouraged me to speak in
my distinct voice without shame or apology

My Quaker Employer
who thanked me in writing for
relational gifts I didn’t know I possessed

Members of a Great Cloud of Witnesses
gone in body from this earth
present in my spirit

Haiku written 18 August 2012

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 4 March 2014

6 Comments
February 27, 2014

winter sun

winter sun pierces
my paralyzed heart waking
frozen grief at will

*  *  *  *  *

Buried deep, forgotten
Denied, minimized, ignored
Silenced, unexamined

Held at bay
‘It wasn’t that bad’
‘Others had it worse’

Ashamed of my own story
Just another privileged woman
Who doesn’t get it

Afraid to shine a light
On darkness that seems
To have overpowered me

You mean you’re this old and
You still haven’t gotten over it
Beyond it, done already?

Normal
We want normal
How much longer will this take. . . ?

Winter sun does its work
In the fullness of God’s time
Not one moment sooner

Haiku written 25 February 2014

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 26 February 2014

12 Comments
February 10, 2014

carolina wren

carolina wren
peers into old beer bottle –
empty still Read the rest of this entry »

4 Comments
January 30, 2014

she sits silent

she sits silent
focused and determined
not to eat

A Short Story

Suppertime, early in the 1950s
Sister #3 sits in her high chair Read the rest of this entry »

2 Comments
January 23, 2014

liquid call

liquid call
soars above drenched grass
drink your teeeee….

I’m out on an early morning walk, trying to beat the sweltering heat and humidity
An overnight thunderstorm made things worse, not better
With each breath heavy damp air invades my lungs
I don’t see the towhee but I hear him
and burst out laughing
Thank you brother!
Smooth cool
iced tea
drops
•
•
•

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 18 January 2014

2 Comments
January 16, 2014

salty tide

salty tide
laps against dock
marsh hen clacks

It’s nineteen-fifty-something Read the rest of this entry »

2 Comments
January 9, 2014

man walking my way

11 July 2012

man walking my way
across deserted playground
trees inhale . . . . . . . . hold breath

Is he safe?  It’s 6:30am.  What’s he doing here at this time of day?  Looks like he’s been sleeping in the park. Rumpled work clothes—not very clean or stylish. He’s watching me. Thank goodness I’m wearing sunglasses.  Read the rest of this entry »

6 Comments
January 2, 2014

thick roots

P1040831

thick roots tangled knots
barely hanging onto bank
drink deep waters

* * *

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 2 January 2014
Photo credit: DAFraser, October 2012
Hoyt Arboretum, Portland, Oregon

9 Comments