Poetry Friday is hosted by Tabatha Yeatts here at The Opposite of Indifference! This Friday, Tabatha has a surprise for everyone. Be sure to read her post, then check out everyone else's Friday poetry sharing. Thanks, Tabatha for hosting and for always giving us beautiful words to ponder!Remember that I work at an all-volunteer-run used bookstore, ever a pleasure! Often a book comes along that I enjoy, and here is one. I don't bring them all home. Yikes! My shelves are full already. But I took a picture of the cover and a poem I thought you would enjoy, with illustration! I am so grateful for all those workers in our world this pandemic year who are helping us live our lives as best we can, who often are taking risks, and who are often in need, too.
THE UMBRELLA REPAIR MAN
In the rainy season
the streets and alleys are very damp.
During the weather of genial sunbeams
No one remembers This thin, raw-boned engineer.
In charge of the bent parabolas of umbrella tops,
The most primitive type of thin-shelled construction,
Using the cohesive force of particle for particle,
He perfects the form of tension.
His fuming pipe bowl burns time
Which, borne by natural currents,
coils away and vanishes,
His bygone, rose-colored youth (like the tattered slogan)
Is already hanging in ruins from the ramshackle wall.
The umbrella repair man
Harbor's no rancor or bitterness,
With the toil of his two hands he earns his recompense.
Only the cats and dogs these unassuming animals,
These alone are his true friends.
Chen Min Hwa
What a sensitive, beautiful, and sad poem. It reminds me of the "Prime Mover" series on Silver Birch Press. And I love and know those introspective-feel-all cats and dogs. Thanks for sharing the poem and lovely art Linda!
ReplyDeleteYes, I've been reading that Prime Mover series, Michelle, & it is like some of those. Our pets take care of us, don't they? Thanks!
DeleteOh, Wow. I love the poem and the illustration. Why am I sad at the end? I love that question I have as I read it.I suppose it's because of the only friends. But, my cat and dog are dearest friends to me and it's not bad at all. A gorgeous poem. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome, Linda. That "only friends" says much, doesn't it?
DeleteI love poems about oft-forgotten workers... reminds me of a 2020 book I love called THE PAPER KINGDOM about a family who cleans the office building, and one night childcare falls through, and they bring their son and make it an absolutely magical experience. Beautiful poem, Linda... I love thinking of you discovering treasures at the store... that, too, is a beautiful kind of work. Thanks for sharing with us! xo
ReplyDeleteOh, I loved The Paper Kingdom, too, Irene. The bookstore has been a saving for me during this strangest of years. Books come in that are intriguing every week! Thanks!
DeleteProfoundly beautiful language - and truths - in this poem. I've just read it several times, immersing myself to soak up more. This "invisible" worker who provides something necessary to others, alone but for the dog and cat, yet at peace ... my heart stirs, then aches, all the while marveling at the beauty of these lines. Your linking it to those who've worked hard on behalf others in this pandemic makes me think how gratitude draws beauty out of the sadness. Let us all be more grateful, one for another - thank you so much for sharing this, Linda.
ReplyDeleteAs you read, Fran, I love it, too. And I immediately thought of the workers helping all of us. We all do need to find the things for which we are grateful, no matter the hardest days we are having. Thanks!
DeleteWhat a great find! Thanks for sharing the poem with illustration. It's lovely and a little sad at the same time. Too often we forget those who perform essential services. Re. cats and dogs as friends -- I thought of "raining cats and dogs," but maybe that's too Anglo an expression for this poet?
ReplyDeleteYes, a think it is a little sad, perhaps a dismissal of people that are so often not "seen". "Raining cats and dogs" doesn't fit to me, Jama, but considering all that are sharing about their dear pets, it's definitely a fit for our times now. Thanks!
DeleteBeautiful poem, Linda. What a find! I'm printing this to put in my bullet journal.
ReplyDeleteI am glad you liked it, Laura. Terrific!
DeleteAnother gem from your bookstore, Linda. It's amazing the timelessness of certain poems that resonate years later in another part of the world. The power of words. Thanks for sharing another great find. :)
ReplyDeleteYes, life today & life in other times have those connections, perhaps reassuring even if sad? Thanks, Bridget!
DeleteWow! Thanks so much for sharing this thoughtful, intriguing poem by a new-to-me poet.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome, Tabatha. I'm glad you enjoyed it!
DeleteThis is beautiful, Linda. Our used bookstore closed down a few months back. It made me so so sad. How wonderful that your community can come and find gems like this book!
ReplyDeleteOh, I am sorry for your news. We fortunately had a bit of a safety fund saved, so without paying our volunteers, we are limping along, Becky. I'm glad you enjoyed the poem. There are so many varied poetry books that come in & I see most, don't read all, but the interesting ones, I grab, at least to read! Thanks!
DeleteLinda: Lucky you, finding treasures at the book store. This one is true, and I thank you for sharing. What an elegant portrait!
ReplyDeleteIt is lovely, I agree, Karen. I'm glad you like it, too! Exploring all the books at the store is a pleasure every week!
DeleteThanks for sharing this lovely poem. It's so poignant--especially right now. And the illustration is lovely, too.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome, Susan. I'm happy you enjoyed it.
DeleteImagine people repairing umbrellas. That reminds me of here in Haiti, where just about everything can be repaired. I wonder if anyone repairs umbrellas here? I will try to find out. I love the poem, Linda - thanks!
ReplyDeleteI had an uncle who was a 'fixer', an auto mechanic & even invented a few things. I often wonder what he would think of all the cars & their computer-driven parts, Ruth. I imagine that mostly here, broken umbrellas are tossed. Let me know if you discover a repairman! Thanks!
DeleteThis poem makes me pine for the days when we used to repair things rather than just replace them. I loved the peek into the life of an umbrella repair man.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Michelle, like Ruth, too, I wonder how many people in our world still repair?
DeleteLinda, it must be fun to work at a book store but I also know that you work hard to keep the store stocked. Books are such good friends and you always seem to find the just right book to share. This one has a very interesting poem. Umbrella repair man is a job that I have never heard of so I am wondering if it is one from the past. There are so many workers that are essential in our lives that we think little of. Have a great weekend, Linda.
ReplyDeleteI imagine this is from the past, Carol, but I don't know. We really have little idea what happens in other less-advantaged countries today. We do order a few new books for our customers, but most books on the shelves come from donations. We are fortunate to be so supported. Thanks!
DeleteLovely. I'm thinking of all the behind-the-scenes work that gets done. All those who rescue what the wasteful throw away and then make useable or beautiful again. It's rather like writing poetry, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteWonderful connection, Mary Lee. Yes, poets gather from everywhere & make beautiful again! Thank you!
DeleteGorgeous--I love that burning time...and the humility. THank you, Linda!
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome, Laura, it was a wonderful find.
DeleteOh, Linda - what a treasure. Thanks for sharing it with us. I'm struck by how, as the poem progresses, the image of a hunched thin figure becomes quite umbrella-like itself?
ReplyDeleteOh, Robyn, you are right. His back has rounded. What a special observation. I'm glad you enjoyed it & thanks for sharing your noticing.
DeleteThat first line. What a gift to find this book.
ReplyDeleteYes, it is, Jone. I'm so glad you liked it! Thanks!
DeleteI finished reading Finding Langston over the weekend, and I can't help but connect his experience of discovering poetry in a library with yours of discovering poems in your bookstore. Perhaps you could write a memoir of your days in the bookstore with little poems tucked in like treasures.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely idea, Margaret. If I could find the time. . . Thanks!
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