William Fetch My Shawl

[Gullivor]

(Old writing by my Grandma)

William Fetch My Shawl

Chill-touched on grim October stalks
pale roses shiver,
William, fetch my shawl for me
and please,
turn off the kitchen light.

Supper toast and tea
goes stale
grows cold.
Silver-warm, phases of the moon-
a teaspoon rested on the saucer-edge of autumn.
We read time in tree leaves
settled to the bottom of the valley.

All is cold and getting colder,
All is old and getting older.
William, fetch my shawl for me
and please
tell me, once again.
I've not been old before and often wonder
if it is too late for us
to kiss on cool October nights.

Polly Baxter 1927-2007

[imaginary friend]

Wow Gullivor!

That's one elegant poem.

Did your Grandmother write a lot of poetry?

[lizzytysh]

Elegant for sure and moving, as well.
Perhaps, mirroring the feelings of many aging partners who have enjoyed a lifetime growing old together.
Such wonderful selection of thoughts and questions that move the poem forward and capture much bigger questions.
Beautifully written... thank you so much for sharing your grandmother's poem with us, Gullivor.

[Tchocolatl]

I enjoyed. Collection of delicate automnal images and feelings.

"Fetch my shawl" is as intimate as a kiss. To whom can you say this - "fetch my shawl" - in the middle of such a poem but to someone who loves you and cares for you and is as warmed by this action "fetching the shawl" than the author is by wrapping it around her shoulders?