The questions of the World


still smell the scents of
machine oil and leather; you
bent atop your work and i
somewhere across the place,

hide and seek between
the shelves,
dusting greasy machines
with my sleeve, jumping
up and down the aisles on
just one leg and each time
i’d come round the corner i
would run my fingers through
your hair and weigh how far
you got – Talking you up
and down the seams you
stitched and ask
the questions of the World
and you would smile, take
them with brawny hands
and sew them carefully into
your work until they faded
and you’d switch off the light,
take my hand and lead me
all the way home.

i had no uncle or dad like him but an aunt and spent hours in the cow stable, talking her into deafness…smiles..and today when i open a bottle of milk, i still find some of my questions swimming there….
Today at One Stop Poetry, Chris Galford spotlights the work of photographer Rob Hanson. The above image is shot by Rob and this poem is my response to the picture prompt…check it out, grab your pen and join us..

30 responses to “The questions of the World

  1. …ja, die Fragen wachsen mit uns auf… und dann kommen sie wieder durch die Dinge des Alltags…
    wenn ich eine tomate schneide, denke ich an die Wiese neben dem Feld, auf dem sie wuchs, sie duftete und ich schnuppere an den Tomaten, um diesen Duft wieder wahr zu nehmen…
    …take my hand and lead me
    all the way home…
    …wo ist “zu Hause”?…

  2. smiles. these lines seem so familiar or maybe just the memories…you will see when you go by my place…i spent summer days in a shop with my great uncle…the smells take me there…

  3. You have climbed right into that photo and brought it to emotive life with your words… answers in milk bottles, questions sewn into a pair of shoes. Just beautiful thoughts.

  4. You express quite a special relationship in your poem. After reading the info at the end about spending time with your aunt in the stable, the lines “your hair and weigh how far
    you got – Talking you up” really got to me picturing a small child looking up out of wonder.

  5. You turned the photo into a love story. There’s something about the photo that evokes contentment, warmth, love, even affection. Beautiful poem, Claudia.

  6. I loved the way you were jumping around on one leg waiting for (who was to me) your dad to finish work and walk you home – I imagined him telling you jokes and tickling you on that journey home 🙂 Steve

  7. Oh, I love that you brought the little girl into this shop. Thank you for sharing that bit of yourself, she is such a doll. I have one just like her!

  8. Hello! Claudia…
    your mere words alone conjured up a small child at play while the adult worked in the shop…even before I read these words…i had no uncle or dad like him but an aunt and spent hours in the cow stable, talking her into deafness…smiles..and today when i open a bottle of milk, i still find some of my questions swimming there…”

    I too think that your poem and Brian’s poem both played with the sense Of smell and memories.
    Thanks, for sharing!
    deedee 🙂

  9. We don’t have to grow up if we don’t want to, I always say–and hopping is aerobic, as is your energetic and delightful poem. May you always find a swirl of questions to wonder at in the milk bottle, my friend.

  10. Claudia, so lovely and special your relationship with your aunt. Nice to have good memories. I love the swimming questions in the milk 🙂

  11. Really loved the story you wove in this one, Claudia. There was such a playful nature to it…one could almost hear the dialogue and the whirl of the machine. Thank you for adding your bit of info…brought things even more to life; most excellent read for a Sunday with coffee, thank you ~

  12. A beautiful image of watching someone work with love ending in satisfaction of love and lover….very nice Claudia…bkm

  13. I love the playfulness of your poem. The sense of freedom and fun you convey is great. It reminded me of my father’s leather work in our basement with all of the smells of the dyes and tanned leather.

  14. Very nice translation of one experience into this other narrative. Funny how different surface events reveal the same things underneath. – Brendan

  15. What a nice (and talented) way to honor childhood memories of a working adult. It’s a nice way to complement this picture too.