A Poem for My Mother

W Lima   NOVICA.com

W Lima NOVICA.com

I would write
a poem for my mother
who loved poetry before
I tried writing any poetry
Her verses in German
gone unrecorded

But the dead
do not read the living
nor will the yet unborn
understand our imagery
capture our breathing
tune our lines

So we write
for each other or else
we will not write at all
We spin our verse but
for each other or else
we’ll grow mute

Not every poem
is music to my ears
but I will try to listen
while you are singing
Listen with my soul
for your song

“So it seems there are only our contemporaries
and we learn only from them listen only to them
talk only to them after all there are no others . . .” ~ W.S. Merwin

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About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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9 Responses to A Poem for My Mother

  1. rivrvlogr says:

    Tuned to each other, we are voices waiting to be heard.

    Like

  2. Morgan says:

    OH so Beautiful :)

    Like

  3. so much for the dead poets society…

    Liked by 1 person

  4. and we write for ourselves as well…

    Liked by 1 person

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