Thursday, August 5, 2010

::posting season::

The red light bulbs dangle, lonely in the windows, signalling emptiness. Barrenness. Expectancy. Silhouetted against the faint glow of vacant homes, hazy light thrown in by prairie-sky and the smiles of children playing carefree on the street. Motionless, the bulbs hang, telling the neighbours' stories, all the same, yet all different: another family sent to another base. And a different family, embarking on the long journey here, to take their place - to take up residence in the teal-/turquoise-/cream-sided duplexes, to replace the hanging red lamps with flowing curtains or venetian blinds. Not long ago, the creaky buildings wrapped themselves around their service families, guarding precious together-moments, fearful tears, infant squawks, childrens' squeals, and lovers' sweet nothings. Now, they stand at attention, unblinking, ready to greet their new families, these "foster homes" of sorts. And our new neighbours will greet the house, in turn, with open doors, fresh air, a new adventure. And the house will stand at ease, enveloping its new family and inviting them to turn house into home, for a time.

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I have been participating in imperfect prose on thursdays, a blog initiative spearheaded by my friend, emily, at in the hush of the moon. Please click on her button below to read the posts of other participants through her blog. 

9 comments:

  1. Meghan, that is amazing!!!! You need to submit this to something!!! It's so eloquently written. Just another of your many, many talents.

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  2. So nice to meet you here, through Imperfect Prose. I like the way you personified the buildings to express the emotions/experience of the families they shelter :

    "Not long ago, the creaky buildings wrapped themselves around their service families"

    "Now, they stand at attention, unblinking, ready to greet their new families,"

    "And our new neighbours will greet the house, in turn, with open doors, fresh air, a new adventure. And the house will stand at ease, enveloping its new family and inviting them to turn house into home, for a time."

    Lovely. Thank you for sharing.

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  3. You caught the beauty of how four walls envelope life and tuck it away in its walls with each person passing through.

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  4. everything about this is perfect. so beautifully written.

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  5. meg, this is breathtaking... wow. i loved "creaky walls wrapped themselves," like the arms of loving foster parents... you should write more of this. it's incredible. thank you so much for opening my eyes, to understand better, life on base... and for linking up to imperfect prose. you bless me.

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  6. Eloquent, tender, bittersweet moments, houses standing at attention perfect metaphor.

    Joanny

    from Emilys

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  7. Glad I found you at emily's place. Am loving a friend through her husband's deployment. Will have to check back here for your wise words. Blessings.

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  8. Loved this.
    it speaks of hope.

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  9. oh wow - this is beautiful - you catch all this hope, emptiness, spirit of change in these lines - downright beautiful

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