polishing
my father's wingtips
when I was small ...
now, the shoes he wears
unstylish and scuffed
—Mariposa 29, Autumn/Winter 2013
I remember sitting in front of the black-and-white TV, which might have been tuned to Bonanza or the Wonderful World of Disney. Shoes, polish, rags, and brushes were spread out on newspapers on the floor. And that oh-so-familiar scent. Personally, I think I did a pretty good job. That was back in the day when people needed to look good for work. I don't know: do people still polish their shoes? Or do they just buy more when the old pair becomes scuffed? Or does it even matter?
Your poem says so much about time & change--personal & cultural! The word "wingtips" is so evocative of an era. That childhood practice in polishing must have carried over to the polish of your poems . . .
ReplyDeletethanks, jenny. your comment about polishing made me smile! my answer: oh, I don't know! :)
ReplyDeleteYou capture a feeling so well in your tanka. Excellent. Things have changed, haven't they?
ReplyDeleteyes, things have changed a little! thanks, and good to see you again!
DeleteThis evoked a lot of memories for me. I too, was a pretty good shoe polisher. I have noticed, also, that people don't "dress up" the same way that they used to and that, as we get older, people don't seem to have the same polished aspect to their appearance. Your tanka is lovely. There is a wistfulness. Time passes. People grow old. And then one day we notice that that little bit of "style" that elevated an ordinary day, is no longer there. And it's a bit sad. Loved this piece!
ReplyDeletethank you, wendy. I enjoyed reading your post!
DeleteI really like this one. How time changes...
ReplyDeletethanks, susan!
ReplyDelete