Friday, April 24, 2009

Poetry 24: Marilyn Bushman-Carlton

A friend gave me on keeping things small, a collection by Marilyn Bushman-Carlton (Signature, 1995), and it was a happy surprise. Bushman-Carlton is a poet after my own heart, writing about small moments in family life. This is an excerpt

from "On Sunday Nights"
by Marilyn Bushman-Carlton

. . .

Earlier, he was the bishop
dozing in his seat behind the pulpit.
He didn't dance in public.

Sunday nights
. after his last meeting, just as Guy Lombardo
. animated the black and white TV
Father would come, untie
. the apron Mother wore to supervise
. our baths.

. Around the floor they'd spin,
her green eyes spicy, his hand at home
in the groove of her waist. . . .

.

3 comments:

Th. said...

.

That's lovely. Is she still around?

myimaginaryblog said...

I'm envious of the couple in the poem. Dean's a rare example of an American male willing to dance (both my brothers-in-law are non-dancers) but we don't have many occasions to dance and forget to make our own occasions.

esin goldman said...

It has been such a pleasure to find your blog through Segullah. You have a charming voice that's easy to relate too. I'm especially thankful for the variety of poets you've been featuring this month.

Keep up the good work!