Good Morning! It’s One Shoot Sunday again! (Ok, so it’s Tuesday, I got stuck without a keyboard and then my writing got stuck too!)
The following is quoted to attribute the photographer and the site that supports and encourages The Poetry Challenge of One Shoot Sunday.
Sunday Photography Interview (Part 2): Rob Hanson & Poetry Challenge
“Last week saw many great responses to Mr. Hanson’s lovely photography. There were numerous creative takes that went to all corners. I thought, before we delve into the second half of this interview, you might be interested in hearing the true story behind “The Bootmaker,” which was One Stop’s official prompt for last Sunday’s challenge.
From Rob Hanson: “That’s Peter Limmer, of Limmer & Sons, Bootmakers, in Intervale, New Hampshire. They are currently sixth generation (and likely last) Austrian bootmakers of the highest repute. A pair of custom boots will take up to two years to deliver (if you even get on their schedule), and cost a minimum of $600. They also have stock boots, of which I have a pair. They are, without a doubt, some of the best hiking boots you’d ever want to own.”
And now, enjoy the second half of the interview, as well as the prompt to follow.
~Chris Galford”
Picture Prompt Challenge Time!
McConnellstown Party Line Memory Ramble
Get off the party line
Oily rags
Turpentine
Churning butter
–on the stoop
Giant enamel bowls
Peaches to peel and to pit
Watermelons
Chilling in the spring
Tables
Chairs
Kegs of nails
Razor Strap
And window frame
Hearing shows,
on the porch
From the radio
I called it
Church in a box
–shaped as old church window, arched
Glitter and dance of kerosene lamps
The night and hallways
Less scary in the glow
Sharp
Frightening
Teeth
Glare
From a hook
Living history
Not just a book
Push and shove
Back and forth
Something straddled
On the horse
Pies on the table
Apple butter kettle
Over hardwood
Fire in the yard
Memories suspended
In yesterday
My Pappy
–by elisabeth connelley
Elisa's Spot 
So many memories preserved here in this poem. You triggered some of mine. I remember hearing shows on radio too. “The Shadow” comes to mind.
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hehe there wasn’t even electricity or a bathroom inside of it for years
being allowed to put a toilet into the basement was a spectacle i’ll tell ya!
giant wood burning stove with plates on it for cooking
and a roll top desk behind grannie’s rocker where there were crayons mixed in with French Pencil boxes from the World War, Spanish Combs from years before that
and GAR boxes that the kids used to play mini bowling lol
I liked cranking the record player.
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lots of great texture through out and some very nice rhymes and off rhymes…that last line brings a very sentimental feel to it all as well…very nice…
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Thanks I was, and perhaps still am, embarrassed to have posted it. So, not my ‘style’. I try NOT to rhyme as I detest them and they get me into a fix 😀
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The picture and your thoughtful poem take me back to my grandfather’s barn on Cape Cod… So many stories, if only the objects could tell them!
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You mean they DON’T tell them?!?! This is a new perspective for me. Can you explain more?
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If walls could talk… I think objects give us some pretty good clues and suggest things to our imaginations, but the greedy part of me wants to know more! More details, more specifics – like what did the people say on the telephone, and did it take them a while to accept the newfangled object, etc…
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Your poems are so full of imagery–bursting with it–sending us back into the past this time. I remember my grandparent’s old phone like this at their cottage. In the 1960’s we could call the next door neighbor or down to the boathouse. (I remember a new phone installed sitting next to it.) I also remember moving to the U.P. in the late 1970’s and having party lines. One of the neighbors who shared our line used to get drunk and tell us off for being on the phone too long. I felt soooo bad! Later, he quit drinking and became the sweetest nicest guy imaginable. Thanks for the memories!
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Excellent all the way through, but thi is line I’ll remember and wish I had thought of:
A silent pause deep in the din
A raindrop trickles down her skin
Edit: The Above Link was edited by blog owner in order to make it open in a new tab.
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hmmm ok this one is not showing up on my end and i do not know why, replying hoping to make it visible
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I like this comment here too Henry. Thank you.
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