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 
Beautiful, moving poem—you bring us there in the 4th stanza, with the
“laying out
sheet music to dry.
Then you made a home
with new walls.”
I enjoy reading it again, thanks Margaret!
Thank you for sharing this, Margaret.
I got goosebumps reading your poem, Margaret. “I remember your song
and that is enough” – swoon. ❤
The vibrations of the walls and laying out the damp sheet music — two images that will stay with me. Happy Mother’s Day, Margaret.
So beautiful, Margaret! I especially love “your notes entered my bones” and “I remember your song and that is enough.” Thank you for sharing; I enjoyed reading your poem.
A blessed Mother’s Day for your mom. What a beautiful poem, Margaret. Her song is enough. Amazing. The stanza of her making a home after the flood is poignant and rich. Beautiful tribute to her and the music she brought to your home.
Oh, my….what a beautiful love note to your Mom. Laying out sheet music to dry after a flood. So many layers of love in this poem. You are a fortunate daughter and she is a fortunate Mom.
It is a song of remembrance, so sweet for your mother, Margaret. I connect because I too have those notes from both mother and one grandmother. How loving this is from you!
What a lovely poem for your mother, Margaret! I especially appreciated that first stanza with the harmony rising in your throat.
Lovely.
I’m remembering my mom this weekend, but our connection comes more through crafts and cooking than song.
Rereading this wonder, Margaret, this time I’m taken with the knowledge that she is still with you, that you are not summoning her from the gone beyond, but from whom she doesn’t remember she is. It’s that “Maybe”…
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.
Thanks for the shout-out–I hope others will email me to ask for invitation if they want to join PARADISE, PAVED.
❤ It's hard when you have to be the only one to carry a memory that was originally shared by two. Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
This poem is beautiful and poignant. The language is spare and perfect. Thank you for sharing this. I love Ruth’s comment “It’s hard when you have to be the only one to carry a memory that was originally shared by two.” So true.
This is so lovely, Margaret. “Your notes/entered/my bones” resonates with me, as there was always music playing in our house when I was growing up. I wonder if your mother remembers the words to any songs. I’ve read that many people with memory loss remember song lyrics. I love the final lines, too.