The Story

"'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy,
To-morrow or to-day."

-W.H. Auden, As I Walked Out One Evening

This is a blog for poet, Senia Hardwick. I have some listings for upcoming readings, and events where you can hear my work, as well as places I can be read. I also have some sample poems and analysis and reviews of other writers.

Friday, August 31, 2012

Triangles

traingles

when I was young,
we built a house in the woods.

lets cover it in string cheese!

when I was young,
we built a house.
it was in the woods.
it was somewhere in Maine.

the Weasel-Man is outside.

we built a house.
it was somewhere in Maine.
I was on vacation.

look at all the triangles!

I was on vacation in Maine.
we built a house in the woods.
it was made of whatever we could find,
birch bark, dead moss, pine leaves, big rocks.
we also made thousands of triangles.

the Triangles were made by carefully folding long strips of paper,
over and over until they were small, tightly packed, and perfect.
we started to count how many we made.
there were triangles everywhere.
in the beds, over the fire place,
in the cupboard, in our clothes, on the statue of a fisherman we had adopted as a totem.

it had all started with the fisherman, also known more reverently as The Party Man.
we lavished him with decorations.
there were streamers and pebbles and candles and oak leaves,
and drawing, and photographs, and little pieces of string,
but then, most importantly of all were his triangles.

in many ways, triangles became the emblem of the Party Man.
party hats, cake slices, pizza pies, and paper airplanes,
are all of the signs of a party.
when our parents threw them out,
the seals had been broken.

the leviathan shot forth,
the water levels rose,
and the Weasel Man was free.