The Solder of Limb Shade, remembering my mother, five years on

Friday, December 30, 2011


My mother is five years gone this day.  
Two years ago, I wrote this poem for her.  
It still belongs to her.


The Solder of Limb Shade

Where you are is not
where you are,
beneath the granite bench
and the heart-footed deer,
under cover, under the solder
of limb shade.

You are not sunk you are not skidded past
by wind.
You are not level, rise, diaspora, root,
nor the chime, pretty as it is,
above the stone field and its tulips.
But once, in a restaurant,
they played your song,
and the house that I have built from almost nothing
is hung about with birds.

You gave your final word
to me.
You said.
You are.

8 comments:

Michael G-G said...

Your poem is a beautiful tribute to your mother. I hold you in thought at this anniversary.

Richard Gilbert said...

How beautiful, Beth. No, she is not gone. For one thing, for sure, she lives in you.

kelly said...

That is a quite a poem, truly.
I am both sorry, and glad, that we have this holiday-ish loss in common.

And I am laughing, knowing this will post with my stupid photo of blowing a bubble.

Jane Porter said...

Beth, your mom was very special. I think of her often, and just love your tribute to her.
Blessing to you
Jane Najarian Porter

Melissa Sarno said...

I love this poem. Sending a hug your way, lovely Beth.

Patty said...

That is lovely, Beth...

A tribute to a mother gone...

Bee said...

"You said.
You are." - I have no words really. I'm sure your mother smiled when she read this poem. Believe me, she did. The ones that love us never really leave us.

Julia said...

A fantastic poem. There are certain things that you remember with necessity rather than by chance, and it is in cases like this that that's a gift.

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