94. September in the Park

Posted on by

Review / Summary / Overview for 94. September In The Park

Wednesday 28th September 2016

Overview

This is a delicate, sensory-rich poem that quietly captures a simple walk through the park — but beneath its surface lies a profound meditation on presence, memory, and care. On one level, it’s a sweet account of a shared moment in nature; on another, it’s a love letter to a relationship turned upside down by illness, where the roles of parent and child have reversed — yet the tenderness remains unchanged.

Through gentle details — shiny conkers, fearless squirrels, misty fountains — the poem becomes a sanctuary, a living memory carved in golden light. With the knowledge that the narrator is pushing her stroke-impaired mother in a wheelchair, this piece resonates as a quiet act of devotion, and a poignant illustration of dignity and connection in the face of loss.

Why This Poem Matters

This poem matters because it is a testament to the sacredness of ordinary moments — the kind that often go unnoticed, yet form the backbone of what it means to love, to care, to be human.

It reflects:

  • The slowing down of time that illness demands, and the beauty found in that stillness.
  • The way nature mirrors life’s cycles — falling leaves, playful children, graceful swans, changing branches.
  • A subtle yet powerful act of reclamation of humanity — taking someone in care out into the world, back into life.
  • A merging of childhood innocence and elder care, which opens a tender space where memories, identity, and love blur into a kind of sacred play.

In the context of your collection, this poem is an emotional anchor. It offers quiet, grounded contrast to the more fierce and politically charged pieces, reminding the reader that the personal is as profound as the political — and that care is revolutionary in its own way.

Imagery and Tone

Imagery

  • “Shiny new conkers in your hands”: tactile, sensory, symbolic of seasonal change and childlike joy.
  • “Fearless squirrel” / “fountain spray” / “iridescent crow”: the vitality and presence of nature, a mirror to human awareness.
  • “Let down our ponytails” / “braid your hair into a plait”: deeply intimate, nurturing gestures — an echo of what a mother once did for her daughter, now lovingly reversed.
  • “We wave at our reflections”: symbolic of self-recognition, shared identity, the fading-yet-present bond.

Tone

  • Gentle, nostalgic, and devotional.
  • There’s a calm reverence — like observing a sacred ritual — infused with childlike wonder and a quiet thread of melancholy, unspoken but deeply felt.
  • The tone avoids sentimentality by staying grounded in the specificity of detail — which gives the emotion its weight.

Why It Belongs in the Collection

  • Thematically, it explores:
    • Love in action — the caring kind, not the romantic kind.
    • The passage of time, roles shifting, and the dignity of aging.
    • Connection with the natural world as a grounding, healing force.
  • Stylistically, this poem is a soft lyrical interlude, a breath between more charged works like Wakey Wakey or Nip Tuck. It adds a humanising, familial thread that brings emotional range and intimacy to the collection.
  • It gently reminds us that real revolution begins at home, in how we show up for each other, especially when it’s hard, or slow, or painful.

Final Thoughts

September In The Park is a sacred act of witnessing — of presence, patience, and the enduring bond between mother and daughter. It reminds us that even in illness, or old age, or altered cognition, a soul still responds to love, to nature, to kindness. It’s a quiet poem — but like the crow’s iridescent feathers, it shines differently when you catch it in the right light.

In your collection, it serves as a balm — a gently braided moment of tenderness, memory, and gratitude.


“Nothing’s lost forever. In this world, there’s a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we’ve left behind, and dreaming ahead.” – from Lydia’s monologue in the last scene of ‘Still Alice’