Tony Brown
Mr. Montressore
We were confused when he passed
and learned from his obituary
that he was exactly who we thought he was.
There were no secrets in that life.
He had met all expectations daily.
He had said exactly what he thought.
He had thought exactly what we expected
a moderately average person to think
about moderately average things
and if there were outliers
among those thoughts
he kept them appropriately to himself.
In his backyard he kept a fig tree
which bore good purple fruit.
He would take a few fruits
daily when in season,
leave the rest
for birds and rats and squirrels —
and us when we were kids,
when we could we’d sneak in to steal
our sticky few, avoiding the wasps
who truly owned the tree, now and then
getting a sly wink from the porch
from Mr. Montressore.
When he died someone bought the home
and cut the fig tree down to put in a pool
and pretty soon we began to whisper
about them and how could they do that?
They must have been from somewhere else.
They must have disliked wasps or joy taken
in a quiet life moderately engaged with neighbors
and garnished by figs.
We whispered about them.
Made up stories about
why they kept to themselves
like monsters.
We learned what we needed to know about
the people who replaced Mr. Montressore
by the sight of a ravished stump
beyond the far edge of the pool.
It’s not like it was,
we’d say.
This whole world
is going to hell.
Three Broken Sonnets For A Broken Time (The Rowers)
1.
Sitting with elders, watching as they
row softly toward the far shore, as they
relax into the final strokes
and glide into that last landing;
that’s been my life of late.
It comes to all of us, or should come
to all of us who last long enough
to see our elders fade from our reach.
Too many do not live to see this.
Too many never see a quiet passage.
Too many do not see the shore coming
from far away; too many reach it
violently, faster than they wanted,
faster than anyone wants.
2.
I’m not yet that close to that shore myself
but now and then I get a glimpse —
a break in the clouds above the horizon,
a scent in the ocean I struggle against,
that makes me think of shifting
toward rest and letting go —
and then I shrug and put my back
into the oars again,
sure that I’ll get there, of course,
as we all will but certain as well
of all the strain still ahead of me
before I can lay off the work and say
it’s time for me to relax, time to let the tide
pull me in to that far shore.
3.
These days it feels that we are all rowing,
harder than ever, toward a much rougher shore.
There are times I envy the elders
who are gliding to the light in some peace.
I sit and watch them go
and dream myself of such a passage.
I do not want to see the final days
we seem to be approaching — though I know
all finality is temporary, that beyond it
there is always a beginning, always
something to look for; hope is a survivor’s
oar, a sweet ache in a rower’s shoulder.
I sit by bedsides, watching elders fade from view.
I turn back to my own rowing. I weep, and then I hope.
Tony Brown has been writing for well over 50 years, and publishing and performing his work for over 40. A seven-time Pushcart Prize and two-time Best Of The Net nominee, he has traveled the country, slammed for the Worcester Poets’ Asylum, and organized and hosted many readings and reading series. He is the winner of the 2022 Stanley Kunitz Medal, endowed by the late US Poet Laureate and Worcester native and awarded annually to a poet for life achievement and service to the Central Massachusetts poetry community.
His most recent eBooks and publications can be found through his Patreon site
(https://www.patreon.com/TonyBrown). His daily poetry blog is available at http://radioactiveart.blog. Tony most commonly performs his poetry with jazz/rock/funk/poetry band “The Duende Project” in collaboration with Steven Lanning-Cafaro on electric bass and classical guitar, Christopher Lawton on guitar, and Chris O’Donnell on drums; They have released seven collections of their work, available on all the usual online streaming and download outlets. More information can be found at their Website: http://theduendeproject.com He resides in Worcester, MA.
Stone Quarterly 