Threshold
After a week
something shifts.
No longer thinking
“on Friday I was still…”
We return to the life
we already know
and love, evenings
by the fire again.
Wine and coffee
and raw yellowtail
and if I stay up too late
reading about wolves
no one chides me.
We set aside plans
for converting a room
reshaping our days.
I remember how
to resent my curves.
It comes to seem
like a dream, impossible
that we ever hovered
on this threshold
or imagined ourselves
ready to go through.
For our beloved lost: 1.20.09. We don’t understand, but we love you forever.
Thanks for reprinting the poem — I’m so glad that it spoke to you.
I wanted to leave a comment here to let you and your readers know that there’s a blog post about that poem, and the collection of which it is a part, here: http://velveteenrabbi.blogs.com/blog/2009/03/miscarriage-poems-through-.html That post tells the story of how the collection came into being, and includes a link to the free chapbook download (which you included here also — thank you!) as well as a link to a bound version of the chapbook which is printed at-cost.
Rachel Barenblat said this on July 4, 2009 at 12:45 pm |
Thank you, Rachel, for putting into words what I couldn’t. They have brought me much comfort.
Robin said this on July 4, 2009 at 1:05 pm |