From her signature poem. And, fathers and daughters.
from Supernatural Love / by Gjertrud Schnackenberg
My father puzzles why
It is my habit to identify
Carnations as “Christ’s flowers,” knowing I
Can give no explanation but “Because.”
Brothers and sisters. And, snow.
from Wind Wrapped in Snow / by Debora Greger
Snowflake, you’re out
with no coat. Listen. Stand still.
No one is calling
across a world half-buried in snow,
Come back, you hear me,
Come back this instant, you forgot —
from The Book of Ephraim / by James Merrill
Yet even the most fragmentary message —
Twice as entertaining, twice as wise
As either of its mediums — enthralled them.
From one of the snowbirds — as a child, I spent more than a few snowy, Ohio days on the beaches of Florida, building castles to the tune of cheerful (or so it seemed) grandparents, parents, tourists.
from Looking for the Gulf Motel / by Richard Blanco
I want to find The Gulf Motel exactly as it was
and pretend for a moment, nothing lost is lost.
For poets, Sinatra, Sundays, 1963, The Central Valley, and poetry, from the marvelous mind of Mr. Sam Pereira.
from Swagger with Microphone, 1963 / by Sam Pereira
He’d briefly say
Something like, This is
A marvelous song
From the mind of
Mr. Sam Pereira,
Arranged by
Nelson Riddle.
Henri to Henry. My 86-year-old father-in-law can recite the first stanza of this poem from memory, a stanza he learned to recite in 5th or 6th grade, around 1938. So today, a memory in celebration of memory and in celebration, a Happy Birthday, to his forever-lovely bride.
from A Psalm of Life / by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Mothers and daughters. Thank you for all you leave behind for us. Today, visiting with Mother? And, Anne, who always needed you.
from Where I Live / by Maxine Kumin
Violets,
landlocked seas I swim in.
I used to pick bouquets
for her, framed them
with leaves. Schmutzige
she said, holding me close
to scrub my streaky face.
from Snow Moon Flower / by Henri Cole
as if the dark tops of the trees shone complacently
and a changing light filtered and breathed
against the lonely surface of everything.
Mothers and daughters.
from Momentum / by Cherri Randall
I’m filled with wonder for the things I know
that defy verse, that fill my daughter’s gaze.
Mothers and daughters. from Mother, / by Nicelle Davis
Through you I am born
again, again, again. In a gathering of light.
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