Thanksgiving candles

Waxy Past

seafaring mayflower pilgrim
passenger priscilla who so loved john
begat a son named david
and prospered
by strange shores.

one child with many siblings
he, along with mary
skippered on their DNA
down through the generations 
shaped strong by tidal rhythms, 
in spray of sea and swell.

mothers, fathers, and their children, 
elders, farmers, simple folk
toiling, thriving, 
sailing outward,
onward bravely
they plyed that eastern shore.

molded, formed and strengthened
nurtured strong
by clear sea air 
day by day their salty course
stayed fast
steered true, the years gave way.

suddenly this morning
as candles from past
stared seaward from our mantle 
two waxy faces careworn,
becalmed and etched by time.

years three hundred seventy
have passed since that david's birth.
still on his line sails surging, 
downwind inside my veins.
moored fast, and firmly anchored, 
i lie safe and sound onshore.






These candles of John Alden and Priscilla Mullins belonged to Nora, late '20s purchases I'd guess. It amazes me how some seemingly fragile random objects can stand the test of time.


I have blipped these candles before and the poem I wrote that day. We watched a PBS special last night about the Mayflower Pilgrims, and a revisiting of the poem and image seemed fitting. I have two Mayflower ancestors, on through David a son of Priscilla and John Alden. 

For the Record,
This day came in cold and sunny with morning frost.


One hand healthy, I'm suffering from a throbbing situation in a tooth with a porcelain cap, it could be from some vigorous night grinding as I've chewed nicely through nightguard. I have an emergency appointment with my dentist in about 30 minutes. I'm not bothered by going to the dentist, I just want the throbbing gone so I can enjoy my Thanksgiving meal. I shall report back.

Cracked root on a previously crowned, slightly loose lower molar. Antibiotics until my periodontist can extract it, SIGH.