Heidi Mordhorst has started a Facebook group Paradise, Paved for poets wanting a place to “park” their poems, for comment, critique, or just a safe place to land. She has been practicing writing in conversation with or after other poets. Like artists will copy a master painting, when poets copy a master, form frees expression. Magical, really.
I received a link to May Sarton’s poem, For my Mother, in an email from Poets.org. Using her poem as a mentor text, I wrote a poem for my mother.
| For My Mother —after May Sarton Once more I listen to the music of my past with harmony rising in my throat. At the piano or stereo, from choir to opera, your notes entered my bones. Keeping a distance, my ears remember the vibrations of the walls I closed myself in. Your song brought us through flood waters. I remember laying out sheet music to dry. Then you made a home with new walls. Today I find the box of cards you collected and choose one to send you. Maybe you will recognize the paper, the handwriting, or the return address. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter. I remember your song and that is enough. Margaret Simon, draft |
Reflections on the Teche 