Can you write someone else’s memoir? No, you can’t. But you can take someone else’s memory and make it into a poem. I didn’t grow up in a farmhouse, with god-fearing parents, but my husband did. His experiences inspired this poem “Lost Faith”, which Thimble Literary Magazine included in its latest issue.

Read it here: http://thimblelitmag.com or below:

Lost Faith

Right there in the kitchen, the wood stove glowed scarlet.
Mama filled the metal tub and steam rose to the ceiling, fogged the window.
The small boy scrubbed himself with Lifebuoy soap, red and foamy,
good enough for the Holsteins, sometimes the goats.
A tight basin for a nine year old, knees bent to his chin,
hair dripping, intent on righteousness and salvation,
he removed hay from between his toes, goose shit from under his fingernails.

Tomorrow would be church, polished pews, cleanliness and godliness,
the preacher’s scowl, the rousing hymns,
his sisters with plaid bows in their hair, heads bowed,
then, chicken pot pie afterwards, Papa saying grace.

Now adult and agnostic, he’d go back to the farm in a minute,
curl up again in the Saturday bath,
the warmth and the water like a weekly baptism,
re-live the fire and brimstone along with the love,
if only he still believed.

7 responses to “Not My Memory”

  1. That lifeboy soap and goat kicked me right in the belly with so many memories and feelings, thank you.

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  2. Hi Gabriella, Loved Doug’s memory in poem form. So simple and heartfelt. Rings true for many of us. (Sundays were special. Now they are just a day in the week.) Say hello to Doug. Thank you for sharing your poem. Kathy

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  3. Beautiful, Gabriella. Debbie

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  4. Judith Cassidy Avatar
    Judith Cassidy

    Gabriella,Thank you for sending this. I read it over a few times just to appreciate the feelings in it. You must have received a lot of people telling you they could easily understand the scene. I like what you do. Will I be seeing you this summer? I will be here, only going back to Montreal with Barb Verity for the rest of this week on Wednesday. I hope you get a lot of appreciation for Not My Memory. I would like to forward it to Kathy, if you don’t mind. Take care,Judy,

    Sent from Yahoo Mail for iPad

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  5. Wow, such a moving poem. The loss of innocence and rituals of childhood. Thanks for sharing et on se voit bientôt. Très hâte.

    Mary Ann Mccarron

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  6. breillycomcastnet Avatar
    breillycomcastnet

    So sweet and touching…Sending wishes for well being for Doug, and fun for you on the farm! Bisous

    >

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  7. Louise Ciulla Avatar
    Louise Ciulla

    Thanks for sharing this, Gabriella. Where was he raised?  When is this happening? I’m 83 and I felt as though I was reading an excerpt from Little House on the Prairie……so different from life in the Bronx and Long Island. You painted a picture of a life that seems otherworldly to me. Louise

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