I’m so honored to have this poem published in Third Wednesday near one by Ted Kooser. Fine company indeed! This poem is also included in my poetry collection I lost summer somewhere.
The Fold
“The corners of death fold us into ourselves”
– Loretta Diane Walker
Mother and I are sniping. This visit
has been that way. The farm is rundown
as she is now at 94, bent over her walker,
bare-knuckled in her independence.
She says I mumble. I say she never listens.
We know this game. I’m packing to go home,
and she calls, “Do you want breakfast?”
I mutter yes, knowing she won’t hear.
It starts again.
I’m her favorite and visit least. I’ll look back
on this weekend, feel guilt. She will win
another round. This time when we hug goodbye,
there are no tears. As I drive away I glance
back to make sure she’s in the doorway,
watching.
Sarah Russell
First published in Third Wednesday
Painting by Mark Tinsdale
Congratulations, Sarah. Fine company indeed, and you certainly earn your place with this beautiful piece. Well done 🙂
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Thank you, Ryan!
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Beautiful poem. He’s in good company.
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Oh Judith, what a kind thing to say. Thank you!
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oh, wow, Sarah the complicated tapes that play over and over from our childhood and continue through our adulthood, our roles never changing really. congrats
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Yes, exactly. Thanks, Beth.
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You did a beautiful job of putting into words feelings that more of us – ok, me – have felt.
Great job, I love your writing.
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Thanks, Susan. That push/pull of relationships. It never stops, does it.
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Ouch. 🙂 So sharp it cuts. I am also a little envious that one can have an argument with a 94 year old mother; my mother has been beyond arguments and real conversations for years.
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Yes, there are hidden treasures in being able to have those arguments. She’s sharp as a tack and plays piano for her church!
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Wonderful!
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