The Innisfree Poetry Journal www.innisfreepoetry.org by Andrea Potos
Finding My Mother in an Emily Dickinson Poem
found poem A quietness distilled as Spring was born to June, the dusk of breath that drew her earlier in and then as imperceptibly as grief my mother lapsed away that blue-gold afternoon— my mother made her light escape into the beautiful. Just Born
for Madeline Olive Swathed in flannel, she mewled a little in my arms and seemed to register almost no weight at all. The tiny crescent moons of her fingernails rose in the air where she’d been so suddenly gathered as if to say, hmmm, so this is the world of breath and light; give me time to adapt to your ways, I don’t have the voice to tell you yet all that I know. Copyright 2006-2012 by Cook Communication |