Book twenty-eight: She Walks in Beauty, A Woman's Journey Through Poems by Caroline Kennedy

This was one of the Lucky Day, Hot Titles books that came in whilst Hen and I were perusing the stacks for some unexplained reason, I picked it up. I'm not much of a reader of poems, which is shameful given my English Literature background, but I recognized many of the poets and fell in love with many of the words. A well-constructed poetic thought is magical. What Kennedy did with this book was break it into parts, there are poems about love, friendship, work, breaking up, growing up, etc. Each section includes a brief introduction written by Kennedy about her thoughts and experiences with each subject. Here a few of my favorites: 

From "Clearances," In Memoriam M.K.H. by Seamus Heaney
When all the other were away at Mass
I was all hers as we peeled potatoes.
They broke the silence, let fall one by one
Like solder weeping off the soldering iron:
Cold comforts set between us, things to share
Gleaming in a bucket of clean water.
And again let fall. Little pleasant splashes
From each other's work would bring us to our senses.
So while the parish priest at her bedside
Went hammer and tongs at the prayers for the dying
And some were responding and some crying
I remembered her head bent towards my head,
Her breath in mine, our fluent dipping knives--
Never closer the whole rest of our lives.

Somebody's Mother by Mary Dow Brine
The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the Winter's day. 

The street was wet with a recent snow
And the woman's feet were aged and slow. 

She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng 

Of human beings who passed her by
No heeded the glance of her anxious eye. 

Down the street, with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of "school let out," 

Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep. 

Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way. 

Nor offered a helping hand to her--
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir 

Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street. 

At last came one of the merry troop,
The gayest laddie of all the group; 

He paused beside her and whispered low,
"I'll help you cross, if you wish to go." 

Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm, 

He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong. 

Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content. 

"She's sombody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor and slow,  

"And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand, 

"If ever she's poor and old and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away." 

And "somebody's mother" bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said 

Was, "God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son, and pride and joy!"

28 down plus 24 to go.