this non-gathering
in plague, the living held
at safe distance.
we come to table
surrounded by ghosts
mothers, fathers, brothers
and those beyond, too numerous
for mortal chairs.
from the shadows, a woman’s voice
calls plaintive, soft and sweet
while we the living and the dead
come together
bow heads
say grace
© 2020 jafink/oldbonesnewsnow.com
Nice, Jeff!
Is there a story behind that picture? I especially like that they included the dog.
I hope you and yours are well!
David
On Thu, Nov 26, 2020 at 3:43 PM old bones, new snow wrote:
> bonesnsnow posted: ” this non-gathering in plague, the living held at safe > distance. we come to table surrounded by ghosts mothers, fathers, brothers > and those beyond, too numerous for mortal chairs. from the shadows, a > woman’s voice ” >
David-
The photo is actually a family photo. To the best of anyone’s recollection, the elder male in the pic is my great, great, great grandfather, Alva, which would date the pic sometime in the early-mid 1800’s. Its a farmhouse in central Ohio, probably Hancock County. In addition to the dog, if one looks closely at the woman on the right side of the image, you can see a “ghost” of an infant on her shoulder. Babies don’t stay sufficiently still to be captured by the very long exposure times that photography of the day required. I’ve always thought that babies in these old pictures are harbingers of impermanence.
All is well here- stay safe in Chicago!
Jeff
I entered your poem and joined a similar table where few gathered and familia ghosts crowded around saying grace …
“Through many dangers, toils, and snares,
I have already come;
’tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
and grace will lead me home.”