Friday, November 08, 2013

Poetry Friday

Ellen Bass writes so deftly of human fragility.

We are neither on the eve nor the other side of a daughter's a wedding here, but still ... I can feel the stuff of this poem down to my bones.

After Our Daughter's Wedding
by Ellen Bass

While the remnants of cake
and half-empty champagne glasses
lay on the lawn like sunbathers lingering
in the slanting light, we left the house guests
and drove to Antonelli's pond.
On a log by the bank I sat in my flowered dress and cried.
A lone fisherman drifted by, casting his ribbon of light.
"Do you feel like you've given her away?" you asked.
But no, it was that she made it
to here, that she didn't...

...And that long gestation—
like carrying your soul out in front of you.
All those years of feeding
and watching. The vulnerable hollow
at the back of the neck. Never knowing...

(Read the whole poem here, at The Writer's Almanac.)


The round up is here, at Random Noodling.


Diane Mayr said...

...Never knowing
what could pick them off--a seagull
swooping down for a clam.

So true. Great pick for today, Karen!

The Sojourner said...

I don't have a daughter getting married either (I have a son about to be born, though), and this poem is making me weepy.

Mary Lee said...

I don't have a daughter, but I am one, and I'm imagining my mother's gratitude that I survived.

Camilla said...

Congrats on the release of your new book today! Got the FB post from Catholic Answers! It is on my to-buy list (but I want to get a couple of your other ones, first!) I pray God blesses your work! When I think of deathbed conversions, I always think of the Scripture that says, "That last shall be first."

Karen Edmisten said...

Thank you, Camilla!