Somewhere: 28 Rue St. Jacques

Somewhere: 28 Rue St. Jacques

Or eating spam fried rice in the courtyard
after kindergarten, and playing cowboys
with Thierry, the kid next-door. We shared toys,
but not comics. Written language was hard

to decipher, unlike the spoken. I
never captured the nuances, and lost
the rest over the years. Today the cost
eludes me, like moths fluttering by. Try

to recall that particular morning light,
how it glanced off the French snow, and the
way our mother smiled at breakfast, no trace

of sadness, yet, the lines marking our heights
rising along the wall, limbs of a tree
we’d never climb, out there, somewhere, in space.

* * *

This was originally drafted during the August 2015 Tupelo Press 30/30 Challenge. I was never satisfied with it, and didn’t see any reason to revise. But those memories are worth sharing!

27 thoughts on “Somewhere: 28 Rue St. Jacques

  1. “Today the cost eludes me” and “Try to recall…” and the lines that follow illustrate how what was and what wasn’t are incorporated into memory, becoming less reliable as time goes on.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. A trip down memory lane. I like it’s flow and how you used enjambement to break up the structure. I wish I had childhoof memories like this, actually. Brings up a melancholy. I definitely was moved by reading it.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. A Déjà vu indeed for me, and it takes me back to my time in France. I remember being cranky for the first week due to the language and the food. Then I met my people, who made my time enjoyable afterwards. Almost every city I lived in France has a street or bus-top with the name Jacque.


    • Maybe one of these days. I think I’d have to dismantle the sonnet form, which would be fine. It was definitely a crutch in this case, as I was having a hard time writing that day, and resorted to the form out of desperation. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.