Not for the faint of heart

So I've had this PA Journal on my desk for weeks now, because I just haven't felt like I can put it away without addressing an article.

Imagine my surprise when I came across the title, "Telling it slant: Using poetry as a venue for healing." (April 2010 Vol. 23, No 1 of JAAPA) I was of course immediately taken and had to read the article.

It is about an author's intuitive conversation with a bunch of boys about abuse; apparently, their boy scout leader had requested this PA come speak to them about the uncomfortable topic. He starts with this poem and ultimately prompts the addressing and slow road to healing of a little guy and his dad.


My Papa's Waltz

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I held on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.


That last line for me is the most powerful. I guess I just couldn't shelf this journal away with the others right away because I felt this poem needed to be shared. I read and cried and shared with others I love who read and cried. Not that I'm going for sensationalism here; I just felt this topic is oh so valid and important. It was such a poignant reminder to me to cherish my little ones.

Don't worry; the next entry will be much more fun. :)