His Legacy

Come One, Come All Fridays keep rolling around at Big Tent Poetry. Monday’s prompt was to write about possessions. The first thing I saw when I looked up was the picture hanging over my desk, and so I wrote about it.

His Legacy

In the picture, one elephant
Six blind men
The first pulls at the tail
A rope, he thinks
The second feels the leg
Aha, a tree trunk
No no, a wall, says the third
With his hand on the side
A fan, muses the fourth
Grabbing the ear
Obviously a garden hose
Declares the fifth, of the trunk
You’re all wrong, it’s a spear
The sixth vehemently protests

More than sixty years have passed
Since he drew this pen and ink sketch
It used to hang above his desk
Now it hangs above mine
And I have to wonder
Did he see himself
As one of the one of the blind men
Fumbling for the truth
Or was he the elephant
Completely inscrutable
Someone different, to each of us.

22 thoughts on “His Legacy

  1. Perhaps the reverse of the story that a camel is a horse designed by a committee?! We all do see the same thing, though through very different eyes. Better to remain an enigma!

  2. Really like your poem, Cara. Like the reflective quality that is mirrored in the poem itself and your questions at the end of it. That you write, enter that field with the picture as a sort of portal into the awareness that we all see and find something different, is an awareness every writer needs to grasp. Or should, at least, attempt to. And I love the simplicity of the poem that works as another portal into the complexity of thoughts and musings of the speaker within the poem itself.


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