Once upon a time, I smiled so broad, so regularly
\nMy eyes big and bright and blue; I was only three
\nA tow-haired child who taught herself to read,
\nWho remembered everything; and now, with eyes of blue-grey-green
\nAt forty-five, I’m honey-blonde; I hide and rarely beam
\nLips curled more often distantly, in nostalgia and memory –<\/p>\n
Old fisherman, carved so long ago, is it the fish that keep you smiling?<\/p>\n
Today, the house I love is quiet, still and cold
\nNo grandmother in the kitchen, as in days-of-old
\nNo grandfather smoking cigarettes – so bad, we\u2019d all been told
\nNo ump-teen children visiting neighbors, all so bold;
\nTo this land of salty air, I return, to heal from months of mold
\nTo the land of my birth with skies of blue, beauties dreamt of, long-extolled
\nIn northland years, while (unbeknownst) my heart, my mind were controlled
\nAnd I stayed away, a make-believe-love having sold me a bill of gold<\/p>\n
Old fisherman, carved so long ago, is it the fish that keep you smiling?<\/p>\n
Quiet. All is quiet, now; and still – except deep in my heart Old fisherman, carved so long ago, is it the fish that keep you smiling?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Once upon a time, I smiled so broad, so regularly My eyes big and bright and blue; I was only three A tow-haired child who taught herself to read, Who remembered everything; and now, with eyes of blue-grey-green At forty-five, I’m honey-blonde; I hide and…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1098,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[3442,3539,10],"class_list":["post-63321","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","tag-2020poetrymarathon","tag-2020hr3","tag-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/63321","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1098"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=63321"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/63321\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":64158,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/63321\/revisions\/64158"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=63321"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=63321"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=63321"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nWhere songs still reach and rivet me; whence springs any of my art
\nExcept flowing through my mind, where memories burst and smart
\nAnd yet, it is here, where I was born, I’ve hope of a fresh start
\nHere, where perhaps I may live, despite having to live apart
\nDare I take it piece-by-piece? Choose love a la carte<\/em>?<\/p>\n