I’m bored with politics. Perhaps it’s papaphobia.
Today’s poet (since I’m apparently following National Poetry Month) is Gwendolyn Brooks, best known for her bluesy poem often featured in high school text books, “We Real Cool.”
I love “The Bean Eaters” because of its quiet tone and use of subtle detail.
They eat beans mostly, this old yellow pair.
Dinner is a casual affair.
Plain chipware on a plain and creaking wood,
Tin flatware.
Two who are Mostly Good.
Two who have lived their day,
But keep on putting on their clothes
And putting things away.
And remembering . . .
Remembering, with twinklings and twinges,
As they lean over the beans in their rented back room that
is full of beads and receipts and dolls and cloths,
tobacco crumbs, vases and fringes.
There’s something desperately somber about this picture, an elderly couple going about the day-to-day monotony surrounded by trinkets of better times past. I’ve always been excited about growing old (strange, enit?) gathering stories and gems of wisdom throughout my life. But this poem reminds that it isn’t always pleasant and, oftentimes, lonely.