he smells like sweet musk
still foreign
after twenty seven years,
and it clings to the air.
a thin mustache
frames his smile
(which makes me smile back,
an innocent thing
i produce due to flattery
and new perspective).
the rest of his face is
oddly familiar-
yes, there is my grandma's nose,
but i have had this face
in my mind for years,
waiting to give it a name
and a story
(or many, like he tells them
about military adventures
and bar fights).
only a few nights of laughter
and bittersweet memory
before he will go
and bring with him
the paternal love and
exaggerated stories;
i think
his sweet scent will stay
for a few days longer.
Author notes
My great-uncle is moving back to the Philippines from New Orleans, just met him for the first time since I was five. He was great and now I will probably never see him again.
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Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Scented
Having married an immigrant from another culture...they respectfully call me 'Uncle. I can only hope, memories of me will, be to them, as sweet. ( I use 'Old Spice, myself). lol
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Good read! All the best!
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i am sorry to hear that you won't see him again, but i hope you do though.
i felt for you, and i love the homey feel of this poem and the emotions were so prominent. beautiful showcase of love and great images as well, good work hun <3
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sweet musk still foreign
the juxtaposition of phrase here is notable. sweet musk read as cultural diffusionism on a small scale. The uncle of whom has been in a completely different "life" so to speak. This signifies the idea, his other life clings to the air and makes it hard to communicate perhaps deeper than a superficial level. The thin mustache which develops after this, seems to be a scar of this other life.
The return of the scent at the end is almost a return to the previous state of affairs as well as having this brief influence.
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cool poem.
that's always a strange feeling when you meet family like that.
I just met my great aunt who I hadn't seen since I was three, and now she's gone again. interesting lady.
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