Carmelina Fernandes-Kock am Brink
Merry-go-round
Every wine glass broken makes for more
Space in the
Antique showcase.
Dessert bowls thrown like disks
In jubilant post-party washing-up sessions
That missed their target, my catch and clasp, in
Time to avoid
Disaster.
The crash
On the hardwood floor to the score
Of late-night jazz or let’s be frank
Early morning workout be-bop
Played to the carefree feel
Of a crowded get-together carried off
So well,
Mingling in the groove of gossip of who
Wore what or told what story to make the
Rest of us wonder in amazement,
Envy perhaps, and already we make plans to go down
Similar roads appropriate places where
The sun goes down burnishing everything.
Until then we sway our hips, twirl,
Skip a beat, miss that flung dish, tip the
Tray of thin high-stemmed crystal—
The price we pay as purveyors of
Ritualized feasts.
The lives of beloved objects now come full
Circle.
We stop, whiplashed, stoop down
In awe sweep up the bits, squabble about
Whose fault this is,
Wipe a tear of disbelief
Recall the
Origins. A wedding gift perhaps.
If we continue on this track
Reckless
Nothing of those early days will be saved.
And yet it is we who create new spaces.
Showcasing our lives entails
Bidding goodbye
Invigorating our museum,
Allowing for this ongoing rhythm witnessing
Downspins as mere teething pains.
What remains is the fact that
We tangoed.
Swung to the beat of our friends
In roundabout panting breaths
Our lungs swelling.
How good that felt, a
Tribal thanksgiving to sheer
Existence. When’s our next dance?
Those broken shards as the curtain fell
Now a warning to poltergeists held at arm’s length
To stay far away
Leave this house once alive with mirth,
Undisturbed.
Memories of tangibles will always loll
Their way in
Through the revolving doors of our
Imaginations, encased in love
Unfailing.
—Submitted on 08/09/2020
Carmeilina Fernandes-Kock am Brink is of German-Indian background, grew up in Canada, and teaches English in Toulouse, France.
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