Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Weight of Days


By Joseph Hesch

He’s dressed in a black coat and hat,
winter or summer,  this old man
I pass every day on our pre-dawn walks.
He comes from beyond those trees,
then up the hill road. 
From there, I don’t know where he goes. 
I don’t have the time to wait
the significant amount of a half-hour
it takes him to get to top of the hill.
His gait is not quite a shuffle. 
It’s maybe half of a shuffle. 
It’s a shuff. 
His left foot, barely skimming the blacktop,
glides forward about ten inches
and then plunks down. 
The right foot follows, dragging forward
to a position of parallel big toes. 
Then a breath. 
Repeat.  Again. Again. Again.
Glacial, relentless in his path …
somewhere. 
I have seen him stop a few times. 
To rest?  Catch his breath? 
Retrieve a memory?  
He grips that large black duffle bag,
slung diagonally upon his shoulder. 
With his feeble bearing, I can’t tell you
how heavy the bag really is. 

The bag looks full of something.
Maybe that’s where he carries the memories.
Even memories have weight,
some more than others. 
He shoulders this burden every day,
focusing through silver lenses
on some point along that hypotenuse–
his line-of-sight–
from his often drippy nose,
to the front of his left boot.
He turns his head neither left nor right,
nor looks for assistance in his effort.
He’s become something more than
an old man inching upward
like a black sun at dawn,
neither pounding out in front of,
nor gasping to catch up with,
that crowd of want-to-be’s
or expect-to-be’s.
I guess he’s his own Alpha,
on the way to his Omega. 
Still shouldering his weight,
climbing that hill, to get to his somewhere.
Always forward. Always there.
Always my shadow between me and the sun.
Maybe my fore-shadow.
I don't look back to check.

31 comments:

  1. nice pice joe...the journey to the black sun...the weight of memories...there are some really nice touches through out this piece...i can see the guy and feel his walk...fore shadow...very nice

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  2. Some great lines in this ..the hypotenuse, the black sun at dawn...his Alpha to Omega..just brilliant. I could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders...and a sense of foreboding in the ending..Brilliant observation, Joe

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  3. you tell an amazing story. like an srtist painting with words...

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  4. i think i can see him...very well written joe...great description of this man and more...we both have duffle bags with some unspecific content in our poems this week..

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  5. amazing piece... I could see every little detail.

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  6. I know this man, I have seen him myself..

    '...Always my shadow between me and the sun.
    Maybe my fore-shadow.'

    Indeed--a foreshadow we all might see if we're looking. A very thoughtful and poignant piece.

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  7. Really set the tone, bringing forth every feature of the man, wonderful how you weaved it into a story too.

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  8. Not just a description, but a profile...and such a capture of a man. Detailed, well-crafted...and image that strikes.

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  9. I guess he’s his own Alpha,
    on the way to his Omega.
    Still shouldering his weight,
    climbing that hill, to get to his somewhere.

    Lovely lines in an evocative picture poem. Thank you.

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  10. Joe...there is a similar fellow that strolls by my home each morning, and I often wonder why? He's been known to cause traffic jams when crossing the street, but he's there, without fail. Honestly, I dread the morning I don't see him...hmm, this old mind has been set to thinking. Another brilliant moment, now forever captured, and shared with the world.

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  11. A rich poem in your uncommon vernacular-- a number of twists and turns. I did think you were speaking of some part of you/your shadow... and love the alpha on the way to the omego and the shuff... and these lines: He shoulders this burden every day,
    focusing through silver lenses
    on some point along that hypotenuse–
    his line-of-sight–

    An amazing poem-- a pleasure to read.

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  12. the weight of memories...the journey...a great write.

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  13. Those last three lines . . . wow!

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  14. Do like how you pace this... felt I was walking in time with this man... a slow exploration of his significence... Cleverly done...

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  15. T.S. Eliot, now Joe Hesch tackling the inevitable.old age;striking lines - his own Alpha on the way to Omega and half a shuffle - a shuff lol!; he seems to be his own Sysyphus. I'm impressed, Joe. Well done! Cheers!

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  16. I could actually paint a picture on a canvass with the words you used to describe this man. The last 3 lines were incredible. Fine write. I will be visiting again

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  17. I could experience ur entire poem, the man lugging his memories, not giving up, keep moving. Excellent word choices and a lasting image.

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  18. I love this. First, I'm smiling at the idea of a half a shuffle, a 'shuff' as you so wonderfully put it. Then I find I'm in a heavy moment thinking about that brilliant mention of foreshadowing. How do you do that?

    :)

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  19. A prose poem full of pathos, inviting sympathy and oozing reality.. // Peter.

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  20. We have people like that here. They sleep in the hills behind the reservoir, about a block up from my indoor abode. Ask for change whenever they have the courage. But don't we all want that -- change and courage? I liked your wordplay on half a shuffle being a "shuff." Fun stuff, though the over all piece seemed more somber...

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  21. I really like this line: "focusing through silver lenses on some point along that hypotenuse" ~safehousepoetry.wordpress.com

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  22. I love the "shuff"...and the foreshadowing ...always there is a lesson for us but we care not to look at it...thank you Joe...bkm

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  23. Hey Joe

    a very powerful narrative - an interesting and enjoyable narrative told with great poetic skill.

    I was completely absorbed in the old man - loved the shuf - great touch - plenty to eat up in this great poem

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  24. I am struck with the parallels between yours and Brian's dVerse this week, the homeless kind of men with bags.

    Shuff.
    Shuff.
    Shuff.

    he goes, for me makes this as real as real can be.

    I like that expect-to-bes. Very original.

    A treat to be over here again.

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  25. Amazing wordplay .. and a great pace too! It gave the poem so much feel, AND reality too!
    Those bags of memories.. *sigh*.. they do get really heavy at times.. don't they?

    Loved the metaphorical references to life in general here... very well done! Oh, and the closing lines were a killer!!!

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  26. Really well penned prose Joe, this piece brought me to a recent conversation with my brother where we talked about how sometimes you feel your just trudging through the world. Great write my friend, wishing you well ~ Rose

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  27. You create a very vivd picture, the cumulative details adding up to so much more than the sum of themselves.

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  28. As always, you make every word count and each picture granularly real. I dread the time when I am this man, yet I hope when I am, I too will shuffle relentlessly on....somewhere, carrying my bag of memories and not lay in a bed staring at a wall waiting to die. Fine poem, Joseph.

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  29. Gosh! Joe! Every time. It says so much, that your brilliance should no longer be able to make us wonder, and yet it does. Another wonderful poem.

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  30. Oh my word, Mr Hesch! This poem and story all rolled into one has so many echoes down the years. My immediate parallel is Ralph McTell's "Streets of London", but there is no exact parallel, Joe. It stands alone as a piece of poetic magic; you have captured a moment in life; an observation of what might be ignored by the majority; a description of life itself, even, but you've done it in such a simple way with ordinary language that no-one could fail to understand. Yet it has subtlety too and it draws me to read it again, like a movie that stands another viewing, because it is filled with so many descriptive minutiae.

    Sorry to wax lyrical at length, Joe, but I so enjoyed this poem (one of your five best, maybe?

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  31. I really love this piece, filled with truth and reality yet the underlying message so clear as well. Powerful imagery, this one is going to stay with me for the rest of the day.

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