2016 Talisman, Brand New

Tonight I should be writing poetry, but there is a party in our living room
for the new car in the garage and my mother, who holds the key

My aunts are here. My father is here. We raise our glasses to the sun, form dissolving,
streaks of light bleeding puddles of pink

A new car is no Christmas Day or Happy Birthday, but the key is hers
and in our lives, we celebrate anything we can

So why waste my time writing words, on a night like this-
poetry will not make a difference. Nothing but more tears on a page
and my eyes are tired and pink

Instead I take my mother’s hand, while the others dance
and make a mess of this house, this little house of ours

The car rests on the cold cement. It is static and silent, but it shines
and we can see ourselves: Mother and Daughter. In the darkness, it glows

In this new quietude, such welcome stillness, I can almost hear the beating
of a pulse, steady and sure

It waits, but only for her. She sits behind the wheel to test the seats. They’re soft and high
her bones, riddled with toxins, will no longer chink as she gets in
and there’s a sun roof, so the wind will ripple through her hair as it grows back

Both hands grip the wheel as she hits the accelerator, and she laughs. Hers to keep
because it’s new, and it’s bright. And it’s brilliant.

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This poem was Highly Commended (Teacher) for Poetry Object 2016

Judge's Notes:
"This is another accomplished poem dealing with the idea of talisman, but in this case it is also a brand name, presumably referring to a recent car model, a Renault Talisman. This touching poem works interestingly with form which is mostly built around the couplet as a complete stanza. However, it wanders sometimes into three or four lines. Writers obviously have all kinds of reasons to work on deviations from a form, and I felt in this poem it may have something to do with the claim in the poem that ‘poetry will not make a difference’, that other things are at stake. However, the poem itself, as the object before us as readers, tells us that poetry does matter, that it is not a waste of time, despite what it tries to say. The writer wrote this and here it is, for us. It contains a succession of very grounded and clear descriptions of a particular family and the loving gift of this shining new vehicle to a mother. Despite the ordinary suburban setting there is something that shines in here, the idea of brilliance is signalled early and it ends the poem also. Nothing is so ordinary that it cannot shine, out of loving kindness. And, simply, of itself."
~ Jill Jones, Judge, Poetry Object 2016