Rats and relics

We are in the process of emptying my mothers attic. The purging is the closing curtain for a summer-long drama one might be inclined to title The Great Rat Holocaust of 2007. My mom and step-father spent the last 6 months or so waging war on the craftiest rodent vermin Dahlonega has ever seen. They bred, and shred, and gnawed on everything from Christmas decorations to air mattress sealant (evidence that rats are capable of suicidal tendencies). Two exterminators (employed simultaneously), months of sleepless nights, countless traps, and 20 plus nick-knack nibbler corpses later the attic appears to be critter free. The aftermath is astonishing and as a kindness I will spare you the stinky details. It seemed obvious that the contents of the entire attic would have to be exhumed and so we are about just that on this unseasonably warm December twelfth. The only thing keeping all of us from careening into insanity is the discovery of forgotten relics from years past. One such discovery is a stack of my old poems. In the interest of public divulgence I thought I would share them with you my limited but faithful audience. I'm only going to post one at a time so here is the first. It is a poem I wrote immediately after my sister called to tell me that my grandfather had passed on. He was a war hero early in life but had spent the greater part of its remainder a drunk. Anyway, I'll save those details for my memoirs. Here is the poem unaltered and unabridged:

No more than an hour ago
I phoned my sister
flat voice monotone she placed the words
"he died at 2" in my ears

those words like morning glories
wrapped themselves around my mind
the aromatic blossoms of relief
and the suffocating vines of regret
constricted and coiled 'round
till the last drop of thought was bled
when focus and sight to me returned
i felt the cold wood floor beneath me
and the musty smell of old things forgotten
which once meant everything

here in the attic of nostalgic recollection
i struggled to my feet and hands
to rummage through the cob webs
and animals who had come here to die

to plunder through softened boxes and yellowed shopping bags
for some solution to this complex equation
insulation warm and irritating
made of me an un-wanting caterpillar
in a coffin-like cocoon

resting like lovers
sleeping head upon my knees
a book of captured images
the dead and living captured in time
together...smiling...happy

and you, your face a blank slab of stone
yet to be etched with the lines of tragedies and triumphs
life would give in quantities difficult to bear

beside your photo lovingly adhered
smudged black print on mildewed paper
"A Hero" reads the text
With consonants and vowels stitched together like an epic tapestry

Through eyes clouded with
years...and tears...and knowing
i can see naught but the knots
the tumult...and fears

O where art thou my brave soldier
who or what in those foreign lands
you described with such veneration
stole your heart from me

o where are thou my wounded hero
the burning regrets I could never even fathom
in my wildest imagining brought to blaze
by drop upon drop of your poison balm

o where art thou my mysterious story teller
those narrow aching knees
which held me near while my mind wondered
through the vivid landscapes
painted by your tongue

o where art thou my grandaddy
my partner
whose enormous wrinkled ear
yearned to hear of my every struggle...
accomplishment...heart breaks and mends...
my wild unbridled drams...
and aspirations...and always as ever,
"One more story please"

the pages turn and stir the dust
which mixes with the water in my scanning eyes

a sparkle of tarnished gold
pulls my attention away and again
i crawl

yet another moment trapped in time
set behind dirty broken glass

my white blond hair nestled in you shallow but strong chest
both of gazing at an open book

I try but cannot recall the story
and truthfully do not care

because at last I've found you...
my brave soldier...
my wounded hero...
my mysterious story teller...
my Grandaddy...
my partner...

our hearts, if only for that moment,
shared a beat and blood,
so I'll attach my memories there