Three Poems by Faith Pittet

 

9

I lost my home

when I lost my mother

Even though we never had a home

we called our own

we belonged to each other; 

we were home; we made home.

I was 9 years old and she barely 30 —

we were both young and unprepared.

I have learnt that my mother

is the only home I ever truly belonged.

I hadn’t always known this: 

You are the home I carry

within me 

black silk

lately I have become accustomed to sleepless nights

each night bringing a familiar alertness

arrested by starless nights 

thriving in the brimming darkness 

sleep hanging beneath the black silk

imminent but never falling 

and some nights I simply let the darkness 

in the sky drop like a sheet over my eyes.

fountain of laughter

At the forest’s edge of a small town 

was an ancient fountain known as the children’s fountain.

The fountain on sight was ordinary

with no special features.

Lore has it that the charm of this fountain

lay in the water filled with

captured moments of freedom, laughter and delight

of children that played in the fountain.

These sounds were painstakingly collected overtime

by the townsfolk —  

they bottled all the blissful adventures and

poured it into the fountain.

This way the laughter, joy and happy squeals of all the children

would be preserved and not forgotten in memory.

It would endure for eternity

and be kindled by each generation,

forever enclosing and capturing delightful 

memories of children at play.

__________

Faith is an insomniac lawyer who is passionate about creating art, obsessed with tennis and a not so avid reader anymore. She writes, doodles and is currently learning French. She is influenced by past experiences merging with the current. Her first publication was in the Bosphorus Review, an online Journal.