Hiraeth
We all experience ‘hiraeth’ without knowing the word itself.
Often, from nowhere,
an unsettling nostalgia
takes me unawares
for a place I’ve never been
and ‘one’ that I might meet there.
Triggered by a scent
or a familiar song.
Or a smiling face
spotted in a photograph
or glimpsed from a passing bus.
On a twilight train
looking through shining windows
of passing houses
wanting just a taste of their
apparent prosperity.
I envy that life
free of pain and poverty –
just mum, dad, the kids.
Sharing placid contentment.
Safety. Opportunity.
Christmas time is worst.
The overflow of goodwill
never wets my shoes
as I walk a lonely path
eyes glancing covetously
through crisp lace curtains
at gifts heaped beneath the tree.
A telly playing
to an empty chesterfield,
I wonder who will sit there
after supper’s done.
Pots washed. Settling down to watch
Coronation Street.
Send the kids to bed because
they will ruin the Bond film.
My room needs warming.
Someone’s loving hand to squeeze.
A kiss on my neck
as you pass for no reason
other than pure love for me.
I’ll love you, sweetie.
I’ll make our lives magical.
I’ll change the nappies.
I’ll sleep in the wet patches.
I’ll let you hog the duvet.
Come soon, the waiting is crippling.
Wow, yes, it was a long time ago now but I certainly recognise having those feelings. Very well expressed and keenly observed poem.
I still have these moments – one day perhaps I’ll find the one or the place 🙂
Hello. The title of this poem got me interested. I live in Wales and it’s a very Welsh word. The imagery of the first three verses sent me straight to my love of Hopper paintings and I got the same ‘visions’ I get when I hear Willie Nelson sing Night Life. Loved the lines ‘The overflow of goodwill never wets my shoes’ Brilliant. ‘Corontaion Street’ and ‘the Bond film’ and ‘tele’ dated it a bit for me but I loved the penultimate verse: ‘My room needs warming. Someone’s loving hand to squeeze. A kiss on my neck as you pass… Read more »
I remember an afternoon just before one 1980s Xmas – it was cold and raining and as some of my kids and I walked in Lincoln we looked into decorated living rooms and wished we lived there – the lives within seemed so complete and ours, as a lone parent household seemed so jagged. I don’t know the Willie Nelson song and will play it next 🙂 Rick.
So neatly perfected this poem of yours it is a pleasure to read. Well done. coolhermit.
Thanks very much 🙂 This ‘revised version is in my 2nd edn. 🙂 Rick.
ps -I like to work to tanka format – it’s good discipline for when one writes free verse
I spent too long sleeping in the wet patches. Now it’s all in my dreams (cleaner that way).
I became expert at contortionism – to avoid the wet bits – the overlaps dried miraculously 🙂