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“tatted lace” draft (literally just wrote this one. very unclear where it’s going.)

January 21, 2008

“tatted lace”

 

frivolité: the gentle inculcation

of knots and loops, hitched thread

to tear-round holes of pure light.

white and gentle nothingness,

spreading tied tatted lace into petal shapes

on a hot, sunny Hungarian afternoon.

a stall near the summit of Buda’s royal hill;

flanking churches, stone cobbled steps,

the view of draped vines and the brilliant

setting sun over the Neogothic parliament house,

an elaborate, sprawling plumaged bird

at the river’s brownish edge.

 

my thoughts are of her, whom i have never known.

a broad, porcelain forehead, deep smile lines

at thirty, dark dark eyes, carved into the face like an Eskimo’s.

full nostrils and my gentle sloping nose, only more petite, softer.

 

the 1920’s pictures of her little body, wearing a swimming suit,

deep browns of her curly hair and big eyes, an impish smile:

the lark’s head knots by which the gaps of years,

the arched picots, assemble into laced unknowings,

the meticulous recreations of a woman I’ve never known.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. January 22, 2008 8:21 am

    Was your grandmother Hungarian?

  2. greeneyedmuse permalink*
    January 22, 2008 10:01 pm

    alas, no. wouldn’t that have been a coincidence?

    i was just thinking of tatting metaphorically, and remembered how ubiquitous it was in Budapest when I visited there a few summers ago.

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