Stilll Memory

The dream was so deep
the bed came unroped from its moorings
drifted upstream dtill it found my old notch

in the house I grew up in,
then it locked in place.
A light in the hall-

my father in the doorway, not dead,
just home from the graveyard shift
smelling of crude oil and solvent.

In the kitchen, Mother rummages through silver
while the boiled water poured
in the battered old drip pot

unleashes coffee's smoky odor.
Outside, the mimosa fronds, closed all night,
open their narrow valleys for dew.

Around us, the town is just growing animate,
its pulleys and levers set in motion.
My house starts to throb in its old socket.

My twelve-year old sister steps fast
because the bathroom tiles
are cold and we have no heat other

than what our bodies can carry.
My parents are not yet born each
into a small urn of ash.

My ten -year old hand reaches
for a pen to record it all
as would become long habit.

I had to read this poem several times for me to bettter understand it. Reading it outloud to my self also helped me to better connect to it. This poem is very reflective. I think that it is reflecting on the authors childhood and specific moments that she remembers most. Possibly specific moments that happened regulary.
The description of this poem is very vivid. Helps to paint a picture in my mind. I can see her sister stepping fast over the bathroom tiles and her dad coming home from work so tired that he appears dead. This poem is a story that the poet wants to tell to others. To explain her family to others.
The poem also uses personification "My house starts to throb in its old socket." It would be quite funny to see a house throb like a human. I believe that if I continue to read this poem over and over again I will find more and more meaning in it because after all it could mean something to someone else when they read it. It all depends on the way you look at it.