Monday, October 3, 2016

Jeltje Fanoy #65 Friesian traders

my mother lived up
to her name: she
didn't question trade


her pagan name,
her illustrious mind,
dazzling, she was,
to the best of them


my father, although
more of a gardener,
did his best to oblige


in Australia, he took to
translating, transliterating
old, rustic sayings,
sprinkled them throughout
his annual reports
to Board of Directors,
was sought after
as a speaker
of quaint, almost
mystical dimensions,
his Dutch proverbs, like
arrows, pointing to certainties,
predictable, home grown truths

5 comments:

  1. That's beautiful. Both their spirits are in you.

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  2. thanks! centuries of trade in the North Sea.... not just Friesians, of course!

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  3. I really liked this poem! There's a grace and groundedness in the way it's expressed. Thank you Jeltje!

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