The Bones of His Being

Author:  Sue Chenette
Published by:  Guernica Editions
Age Recommended:  Adult
Reviewed By:  Arlena Dean
Book Blog For: GMTA
Rating: 5

Review:

"The Bones of His Being" by Sue Chenette was a series of poems...along with
memories of her fathers depression and death.  Now, I will go through each
section...on till the end.  However, to better follow me you really need to get
a copy of the read. 

Sue starts with a 'Candelabra'... 'Snapshot, 1948'.."Leaning against the pickup's fender..."Pendleton Shirt'..Handsome red-green plaid, you like it as a jacket, with a bolo toe," "Bird Diary Thursday, August 6, 1987: Gold finch 2, Upland Sandpiper 1, Flickers 15, Crow 1, Kingbird"  "Long Distance Not feeling so good, he says, the, I just got back from a little walk"  "Talisman Old square nails carried in a pocket, figuered among smooth coins-"  "Maxims...I  come upon then scattered through his old files, in lots on books, new interviews,  sermons he summarized from memory"  "Trees in Price County After the hike..." "Weight"...Your wallet, curved to fit a hip pocket."  "Reading Huckleberry Finn" "Music" "One Small Thing..The probe was, they treated him like any patient, all routines and protocols," "Griff Nordling With his neat slacks and brief case and salmon coloured shirt, leaned across the table where Mary had brought Dad in his wheel chair."  "Food"  "Depression Can Be Treated" "Simple Gifts...I told Dad I'd Play Appalachian Spring on his Walkman, that it ended with variations on Simple Gifts. That was his favorite song. We sang it together.  "A Transport of Grief"  "Heron" "Blessing My sister stands by my father's bed weeping, holding his hand." "Bones...His skin gleams in the watery light, taut along his chin, the knobbed hinge of jaw. ...sunk to nothing."  "Willow"  "Linger" "Grudge" "Tansy"  "With Me"  "So simply...The Kidneys fail, after months of food and drink refused. My mother holds his hand...I think he's gone." This is how death come - just a stopped breath. His face looked peaceful, stilled lips, grey-blue eyes we couldn't close.  "Vision...Later, he will be with the wind, the gulls, over the choppy lake.  Pure spirit."  "Night...After the necessary phone calls..." "Your Watch"  "Eldest Daughter"  "Anger...Mostly I kept it caged, coiled in its constricting know,
hissing softly."  "At Dawn"  "Crisp September Day...We have memories of him looking thru his transit during a crisp Setemberday and writing down notes of terrain elevations with a flock of geese flying over."  "View" "My Father Made This Table"  "A Good Thunderstorm"  "Loosening" "Among Kiwanians...My Father was Kiwanian..."  "In My Father's Hand...Mostly it's who, what, where, when - "  "Spaces .. In the spaces between the words hesitations shaped by the edges of consonants or a soft-trailing vowel as the words left the shelter of his thought to breathe and get their bearings I knew my father best."  I found this poetry were truly a keepsake.

Now, to really understand all of this you will be left to pick up "The Bones of His Being" to see how this author was able to put together such a warm memory  box that has been made into a poetry like no other that I have ever read.  To be able to deal with 'grief' as Sue was able to do was simply something that even in illness and death their is a journey that we may all will at one time or another  have to take....but to turn this into such wonderful words of encouragement  for us all to read ...only leaving me to say Wow...what a beautiful read.    Thank you for sharing Ms.Chenette!