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Poetry Sunday: Personal Effects by Raymond Effects

This poem was brought to my attention by my Facebook friend, Bill Gould, who had heard it on Writers' Almanac on NPR. I looked it up and was captivated. Those last three stanzas are just perfect and priceless. I hope you agree.
Personal Effects

 by Raymond Byrnes
The lawyer told him to write a letter
to accompany the will, to prevent
potential discord over artifacts
valued only for their sentiment.
His wife treasures a watercolor by
her father; grandmama’s spoon stirs
their oatmeal every morning. Some
days, he wears his father’s favorite tie.
He tries to think of things that
could be tokens of his days:
binoculars that transport
bluebirds through his cataracts
a frayed fishing vest with
pockets full of feathers brightly
tied, the little fly rod he can still
manipulate in forest thickets,
a sharp-tined garden fork,
heft and handle fit for him,
a springy spruce kayak paddle,
a retired leather satchel.
He writes his awkward note,
trying to dispense with grace
some well-worn clutter easily
discarded in another generation.
But what he wishes to bequeath
are items never owned: a Chopin
etude wafting from his wife’s piano
on the scent of morning coffee
seedling peas poking into April,
monarch caterpillars infesting
milkweed leaves, a light brown
doe alert in purple asters
a full moon rising in October,
hunting-hat orange in ebony sky,
sunlit autumn afternoons that flutter
through the heart like falling leaves.
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Comments

  1. AlanaJuly 21, 2019 at 5:57 PM

    Oh, those last three stanzas - yes, perfect, especially the "Chopin etude wafting from his wife's piano on the scent of morning coffee." Those are the lines that could make someone wish they could write poetry.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJuly 21, 2019 at 6:22 PM

      Indeed. I do envy those who are able to express themselves poetically.

      Delete
  2. Judy KruegerJuly 22, 2019 at 11:37 AM

    I agree!

    ReplyDelete

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