Vox Populi
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Alice Friman: Confidentially Pink
When I stepped down from the train
and he wasn’t there
I didn’t panic. I knew he’d come
for I had dressed in pink–
a morning bud. An invitation.
When I was a child, Grandma
sent me home with armloads of pinks.
Peonies–blowsy blossoms to bury
a face in. Buds, hard as knuckles
and sticky with juice, aching to open.
Sweetness she’d call me, as if she saw
in advance that day in the forest where
he took me–lying together under May’s
first green–pressing himself to my need
as if to absorb me and all my pinks.
A time wished for, hoped for, long
before stepping off that train: an armful
wrapped in blush, a present of pink.
Years have passed since that day,
but despite my talent for making things up,
I can’t spin those hours any differently–
that day making up for so many
before and afters. A bounty that stands
like a lighthouse in memory, sweeping
its bright beam over all the rest, even when
peonies crawl with ants or when they droop–
as they do now–too old and heavy for their necks.
Copyright 2023 Alice Friman. First published in PLUME #143, July 2023.
Alice Friman’s many books include On the Overnight Train: New and Selected Poems (LSU, 2024). She lives in Georgia.
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The experience of reading this poem, of living in its moments, is a delight. Thanks for sending it along.
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Peonies–blowsy blossoms to bury
a face in. Buds, hard as knuckles
and sticky with juice, aching to open – Just beautiful
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perfectly Wonderful!
Alice is always at her best! I
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A beautiful nostalgic love poem🌸
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Gorgeous. I love those blowsy peonies.
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“A bounty that stands
like a lighthouse in memory”!
Fine, fine memoir poem.
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I like the deep feelings of the poem: a balance of nostalgia, sensuality and irony.
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By coincidence I sit here reading this. a vase of bright pink peonies beside my computer. My favorite flower. Though I never wear pink.
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Thanks, Jackie!
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