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.
Andrea Potos is the author of nine poetry collections, most recently Mothershell (Kelsay Books), A Stone to Carry Home (Salmon Poetry), and Arrows of Light (Iris Press). Her poems can be found widely in print and online.
