there are no abbeys in my town
no dwarfing buildings nor a basilica
but there’s a library with wrinkled books
— weathered and as old as time,
that hold the sweet smell of yesterday.
there are no fancy cafes to sit outdoors,
the sandflies: a given that comes with the sun.
there’s salt air that sticks to your hair
and clothes– and the scented oil of empanadas
that will linger on past supper.
mother sneezes when I get home
but doesn’t ask about my whereabouts;
it’s just as well– she already knows!
and the Herculean fly on the wall has no clue
— it will never get to Rome, either.
later as scant light drops on me
like pale confetti that sticks to my skin
the wind throws me a gabble of sounds
as the sea begins to turn to the tide
which is when I pine for the evaporated day
when the sounds were the least of my worries.
I go outside to get far from the sound
but the road runs away before me–
it turns and deposits me by the sea
to hear the halyards slapping on masts.
there exists a certain peace in the sounds
as if to magnify and give my life a new lease.
the ear soon tunes into peace, and I look up
to find that the sky is drunk on stars
right here in the town with no roads to Rome
where kids come in smelling of green sunshine;
where days are long, and evensong meets zen
© selma
Poetics: Hidden Gifts hosted by Ingrid at dVerse made me think of the small town
that raised me– the restlessness I felt, the fact that nothing new seemed to happen.
Funny, but it’s not funny, really that gratitude should take me there to those humble
beginnings: My then and my now, two simple happenings that GET entangled. I like
it that way: The gift of hometowns.
Let me share the haiku of two greats:
In my hut this spring
There is nothing–
There is everything
~ Sodo Yamaguchi
*
My coming, my going
Two simple happenings
That got entangled
~ Ichikyo Kozan
*
Empty-handed I entered
Into this world
Barefoot I leave it
~ Ichikyo Kozan
*
And then there’s this one from a year ago, about hometowns:
Hometown
I couldn’t wait
to leave you for the lights
but the nights were lonely
without the stars
heartsick
© 2022 selmamartin.com
Thanks for reading my gratitude post.
Blessing you.
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- Day 25: NaPoWriMo 2024–The “Proust Questionnaire” - April 25, 2024
I feel as though I’m there! Fantastic, Selma. Hugs 💕🙂
I’m so happy to know you and I were there together. Thanks so much dearest, Harmony. I bless you. Stay sweet.
💖🤗💖
I feel a nostalgic love of place in this poem.
That’s correct, dear friend. Nostalgia for that place that was my greatest gift. Fills me with gratitude. Blessings.
Thanks you kindly, dear Raj. Blessings.
Wonderful picture. I like
Beautiful poem written .
Hey, RAj, blessings. Thanks you kindly for the support, dear Raj. Have a great day today. xoxo
Thanks, Selma! Iam so glad too. You have nice day .
Omg, Selma. This is a remarkable poem. I read it twice because one reading did not feel sufficient to appreciate it. I love everything about this poem. It’s the kind of poem I wish I had written 🙂 Excellent!
Thank you for sharing the two haikus, too.
Twice. This warms my soul. Thanks. Your words are lovely, Smitha dear. Blessings to you. Xoxo
By the time you commented, I read it thrice :). Loved it again. Xoxo
Aww, you ❣️xoxo ❤️
Wonderful poetry My Friend.
Goff, it’s a good day when I get a note from you. THanks so much. I bless you. Stay sweet.
Pleasure Selma. Great write My Friend. These days I find I am getting busier and busier with one thing and another. Have a great day My Friend.
As long as you’re enjoying it, keep going dear one. I admire you enormously. All the best. XoXo
Certainly am!☕️🌸
I enjoyed this. Excellent sensory details
JYP. Your words warm me tonight. Thanks so much. Xoxo.
Beautifully poignant ❤️
Thanks so warmly dear Yassy. Blessings.
Always welcome, Selma ❤️
So lovely Selma.
Ah, Sadje. Thanks, always. xoxoxoxox
My pleasure
Wow! Selma, I love your exquiste poem ‘No Roads Here Lead To Rome’. It is astonishing and superlative – some lines had me pausing to absorb them into my soul. Furthermore, thank you for sharing the deceptively simple haikus, a profound study of hometowns! Wishing you a lovely day, dear friend! hugs xx
So thrilled you found this one to your liking, dear Annika. ((hugs)) And the Haiku… xoxo Bless you.
Such a beautiful post, and poem. I love the gabble of sounds, the reverie about time gone by – the salt air, and, especially “where kids come in smelling of green sunshine;
where days are long, and evensong meets zen”.
Just beautiful.
Sherry, dear one. So happy to hear the sections that spoke to you. The green sunshine– yes, I like that one too. Thanks for the visit and lovely comment. Blessings to you. Stay well. xoxo
You’ve caught beautifully the small comforts of home. Sometimes we need distance to really see them. (K)
It’s so true what you say about needing distance. Thanks for reading and commenting. Blessings.
Well, it sounds like a fine hometown to me, Selma! I have a love-hate relationship with my hometown. Perhaps that’s a normal thing. Is the photo of your hometown? I loved the haiku you shared also – especially the last one, thank you!
Ingrid, the prompt is lovely. Thanks for helping me bring this one out to share. The haiku– I love them as well. The photo, no, it’s not. But it’s a nice one with the sea and all the golden sun… I loved it. Thanks, Ingrid. Blessings.
Fantastic post, Selma! <3 I love all the haiku, The long poem is exquisitely beautiful and eloquent! I too am a small town girl, having grown up in a series of small towns in Pennsylvania and Virginia. I spent much of my adult life searching for the perfect small town. After I married at 18, I lived in one very nice small Virginia town for nearly twenty years, and I learned that nowhere is perfect! 🙂
I’m pleased to hear you are a small town girl as well. Perfect– never perfect until every street corner brings those aha moments that we carry inside. Those exhaled make it close to perfect. I bless you, my friend. Stay happy… ((hugs))
Beautiful poem! So nostalgic! Well shared ☺️
Well shared. Yes. And I appreciate you seeing beauty and nostalgia in the words. A bit too wordy, but it was more like a stream of consciousness poem. I am glad you enjoyed it Priti. Blessings.
It’s my pleasure ☺️🙏
Thank you for introducing me to your hometown, Selma, a gift hidden but obvious to you in the weathered books in the library and ‘the scented oil of empanadas / that will linger on past supper’. I had to look up empanadas and they look similar to our Cornish pasties. As I have lived by the sea and am not that far away from it still, my favourite lines are:
‘like pale confetti that sticks to my skin
the wind throws me a gabble of sounds
as the sea begins to turn to the tide
which is when I pine for the evaporated day’.
I live in a small village on the Norfolk Broads, with moorings outside our back garden gate, where I often ‘hear the halyards slapping on masts’.
I was there with you!
It enlivens me to know you were there with me, Kim. Worlds apart but in the know of such hidden gifts that one plucks from the wind that is all knowing. Thanks for showing me the similarities in yours to have as mementos of you over there in the Norfolk Broads.
My hometown, Belize and the boats sway in the Caribbean Sea.
Thanks for reading and responding. I bless you.
I really like these Haikus and the poem. Beautiful words 🙂
You’re a gem for saying. Thanks dearly.
Very welcome 🙂
Wow, Selma, I love this exquisite, nostalgic poem that had me feeling like I was there with you. The imagery is fantastic! And I also loved the haiku, though few words, they are powerful. Absolutely stunning! ❤️❤️
Aww. You came to read. Dropped me a response. I love it. So happy to know you went there with me to my nostalgic beginning. It is me. A young me over there in Belize and the Caribbean Sea that raised me.
Now I live in Japan and I embrace a bigger body of water— The Pacific Ocean 🌊— I’m lucky, yes.
There was one road leading out to Japan and I’m the only one who took it. Funny how that happens.
The night sky though, inimitable!!
Belize is bestest for that, and we know why.
Thanks so much for being my reader today. I bless you. Xoxox
I can already tell that I’ll love your writing, Selma. This poem is sublime! It’s as though you took your readers with you, so vivid were the pictures you painted with your words. Have a lovely Friday! 💞
Aww. You honor me, sweet one. You used the word sublime on me and the ground shook. ((Hugs))
Yes, it’s Friday. My Friday Yoga was cancelled due to the elements— snow in Tokyo. Heavy cold rain in my warmer area. 🤦🏻♀️ was looking forward to snow. Oh well. You cannot have it all.
I’ll leave the light on for you tonight so that your Friday sparkles with light from the start. Blessings.
Hugs to you too, Selma! It’s evening here and almost time to close the eyes. Hope you do get snow! Have a lovely day anyway. My husband and I live for the weekends until we retire in a couple of years. So Happy Friday! Your words are magical! xoxo
I learned a new word today: halyards. I didn’t even know what they were called in Dutch or Flemish, but I know the sound very well. Thank you, Selma. Each poem is a gift!
I learned that word recently too. A rope is a rope is a rope! Haul the yards… blessed be, Conny
This is truly a song in poetry that takes you to the heart of a beautiful town so well loved. I so love this Selma. Your wording is splendid here
“like pale confetti that sticks to my skin
the wind throws me a gabble of sounds
as the sea begins to turn to the tide
which is when I pine for the evaporated day”
💗
Thanks so much for liking my wordy one too. Less wouldn’t have worked. Xoxo 😘
😍