To discuss the Fat Poets Speak series of books of poems, published by Pearlsong Press
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Opera
Opera (To the Memory of My Mother)
You left your body
before you died.
I could feel you,
a slight coolness
softness in the ether.
I was so glad
that you could fly up
and poise yourself
above your thin
tired little arms.
First you swam
past lights
then to the window.
You stopped
near the closet,
then turned
and floated
the wall.
Before you left,
you came back
one more time
and glued your eyes
into mine
to say, "Always."
As you passed,
your voice,
now released,
ranged into trees,
wheeled
into the night-borne
dark blue sky
and climbed free
over early autumn stars,
singing.
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