“When I came to my mother’s house /
the day after she had died /
it was already a museum of her /
unfinished gestures.” – George Bilgere, “Blank”
This post inspired by, and in homage to, George Bilgere’s poem.
My grandmother had left all her gestures piled up under the kitchen sink. When we came to clean out her house after the funeral, we found them. They sat in a neat pile, where she had last used them, in the old white wash tub that used to hold ice on barbeque days and snow on winter nights.
About this post: We all inherit something from our families-