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!


11 thoughts on “Somewhere: 28 Rue St. Jacques

  1. Wonderful sonnet, Bob – and the poignancy of ” and the / way our mother smiled at breakfast, no trace / of sadness, yet,” really caught me!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. It’s an intensely atmospheric poem Robert and I’m glad you thought to bring it to your blog. I also notice how you’ve broken free from today’s almost ubiquitous free verse and run with Petrarch’s sonnet form, right through to his rhyme scheme and the English pentameter. Do you remember if you found that inhibiting, or was it strangely liberating? Whichever, I like the result a lot – I think because you’ve pulled off the difficult feat of making the whole thing sound like relaxed natural speech. Three resounding cheers, I say!!!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you, John. I enjoy the challenge of following the sonnet form, and find the limitations to be anything but inhibiting. The constraints force me to think differently, to use words I’d not otherwise use.

      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 )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter 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.