poem by Charles Simic

At the Cookout

The wives of my friends
Have the air
Of having shared a secret.
Their eyes are lowered
But when we ask them
Why
They only glance at each other
And smile,
Which only increases our desire
To know....

Something they did
Long ago,
Heedless of the consequences,
That left
Such a lingering sweetness?

Is that the explanation
For the way
They rest their chins
In the palms of their hands.
Their eyes closed
In the summer heat?

Come tell us,
Or give us a hint.
Trace a word or just a single letter
In the wine
Spilled on the table.

No reply. Both of them
Lovey-dovey
With the waning sunlight
And the evening breeze
On their faces.

The husbands drinking
And saying nothing.
Dazed and mystified as they are
By their wives' power
To give
And take away happiness,
As if their heads
Were crawling with snakes.

I picked this poem for many reasons. Here are a few. Simic has a dramatic way of using punctuation to highlight ordinary accessible language. It slows you in the right places. Also the
simplicity at first read becomes much more at second read. With even for me, anyway, a reference to Medusa with the snakes. The poem paints for me a picture in rich oils hanging framed in some gallery and somehow I have the vision set way back. Well, the theme is as old as the hills....

Now I will also send an email with a poem on it as not all new members are on our blog.

I have reworked three poems and will send as attachments in the email addressed to you all.

Don't forget to type out a poem you like from your reading of a poetry as suggested in the last meeting.

Seems a long time since we met. Look forward to seeing, hearing from you all again next Wednesday.

I have spoken to Karen using the video with Skype. Technology is becoming a standard state of mind around here.

Cecilia