During a recent hospital stay for some rather serious concerns, Jan’s blog post arrived. This Ellen Bass poem touched my heart that day and made me realize how thankful I was just to be still be here. — Carol
can be enough to make you look up
at the yellowed leaves of the apple tree, the few
that survived the rains and frost, shot
with late afternoon sun. They glow a deep
orange-gold against a blue so sheer, a single bird
would rip it like silk. You may have to break
your heart, but it isn’t nothing
to know even one moment alive. The sound
of an oar in an oarlock or a ruminant
animal tearing grass. The smell of grated ginger.
The ruby neon of the liquor store sign.
Warm socks. You remember your mother,
her precision a ceremony, as she gathered
the white cotton, slipped it over your toes,
drew up the heel, turned the cuff. A breath
can uncoil as you walk across your own muddy yard,
the big dipper pouring night down over you, and everything
you dread, all you can’t bear, dissolves
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First, Blessings on your recovery. Secondly, thank you for this poem. Finally, I am confused as to who wrote it!
Susie from Lorna’s Wintergreen
It is, I believe, an Ellen Bass poem.and thanks for the good wishes!