Objects are Closer Than They Appear
-The following first appeared in The Floyd Press on December 30, 2021.
Objects are Closer Than They Appear is a new book of poetry by Floyd poet Colleen Redman. The 43-poem collection is a sequel, or a deepening, to Redman’s 2017 Packing a Suitcase for the Afterlife, published by Finishing Line Press. 
As a poetic memoir, the new book can be read from start to finish as an evolving story that finds some resolution to the question that sets up the collection, ‘where does the sound of a bell go?’ …People, places and things of the past ring silently true in the present / I follow the landmarks of their memories and dream the dreams I have loved / Some reappear by my longing for them as shadows teased from darkroom negatives…
Redman believes that “poetry is the work of the psyche, and it’s work that asks more of us as we age. As a therapeutic practice, the poems are universal as well as personal. Some give voice to early childhood trauma and the loss of parts of myself as an adult through the deaths of three of my eight siblings and both parents,” she says. …Every death is a big bang / that blows up our pretense / splits us like atoms in two / Wherever you go / a part of me follows / and I carry a part of you…
Other poems in the collection revisit growing up during the ‘50s and ‘60s in an Irish Catholic family of 11 on a South Shore of Boston peninsula… an Elvis Presley movie at the Loring Theater in Hingham, the bumper cars at Paragon Park, walking home in broken flip-flops after spending bus money on cotton candy, the first day of kindergarten… I’m scared that Mr. McGregor is going to catch Peter Rabbit / and I don’t know how to be quiet at rest time…
Redman reflects, “Now that the look back is longer than the look forward, I can see through life’s rearview mirror to the through-line from there to here. Poetry is the soul’s compass that provides me with a sense of direction. It doesn’t always point to my north star. It’s read from where I am and, like dreams, poetry has no platitudes.” You can’t know when you’re young / that some choices are made only once / that lived moments recalled / don’t live up to their originals / They’re like copies of copies of copies / with details that blur over time…
The poems in the collection also explore aging as a developmental stage, not as a commentary on geriatrics or as upbeat advice of living to the fullest, but as building a legacy of the soul. “Life’s foundational milestones go according to some unspoken schedule and with every stage we can say ‘I’ve never been here before,’” Redman says …With pages that slip out of order / So we stick to the stories we’ve memorized / Recite our lives like familiar songs / that still hold the melody of their origins / As golden years fade to vanishing dust / our inanimate belongings outlive us…
A sense of place grounds the poems and everyday actions are woven in, but even those poems speak to the developmental stage of elder age, such as with Sewing on the Porch… Always taking in the excess and shortening the length / stitching childhood together with famous last words… I have more altered outfits / than time left to wear them / than places to go to be seen…
Or watching a flock of goldfinch fly away on Woods Gap Road… Rising from the roadsides / they leave me in their dust / They fly from my heart / like children that have grown / Like babies never born / they take their last chances / and fly like souls / freed from cages / into the next life…
“As we age, we begin to embody our ancestors,” Redman says … I’m my father’s homebody and my mother’s skeptic / floating through days like a ghost squeaking floorboards… “They are closer than they appear, and I feel closer to them as I sense the reality of my own leaving approaching.”
“Poetry is a condensed form of expression that doesn’t follow the rules of prose and, like a dream, isn’t limited by one reality. A bus ride can symbolize a lifetime.” …Once you’re on board / you have to trust the driver / You pay for your baggage / and lift your own luggage / You take every turn / that you didn’t plan / and hope you don’t feel lost….
“And humor is a saving grace that keeps me buoyed,” Redman says, as with The Death Wish… If I have to die / I hope it’s by Cupid’s arrow / and that Mark Knopfler’s Golden Heart is on the playlist…
The poems in Objects are Closer Than They Appear are a remembering of what was precious, a grieving and honoring, and a testament of resiliency. …Love has amnesia when it comes to storms / My love is a boat that has saved me… Redman concludes.
Note: Objects are Closer Than They Appear and Packing a Suitcase for the Afterlife can be purchased on Amazon and at upcoming book readings in the new year. Objects are Closer Than They Appear is also available locally at The Harvest Moon Food Store.
