This first day of August is time for a new Inklings challenge. Catherine Flynn asked us to write a triptych poem using Irene Latham’s model poem here. I also looked at Summer Triptych by Linda Pastan.
This summer with my mother’s passing, I have been thinking about the three summers that stand out in my mind in the long process of losing my parents. The first summer I had to face the reality of their aging was 2019 when they decided to move to an independent living apartment. They left the house full, and my siblings and I had to clean it out.
In the summer of 2022, I was grieving the death of my father and searching for a sign of him. And this year, my mother…
Solace, peace, comes to me in this poem. I hope you find it there, too.
Summer Bird Triptych
July 2019
The hummingbird feeder,
blown glass
swirling
primary colors,
reflects the sun,
attracts a ruby throat hovering
while I sit alone on the porch,
Remembering.
July 2022
I hear a tap, tap at the window.
A bright yellow prothonotary.
Does he see his reflection?
Does he want me to come out?
Is it you, Dad?
July 2025
The crows seem angry.
The Merlin app identifies fish crows.
They call with a fervor I feel deep in my belly,
calling me back to nature
and myself.
To see how other Inklings met this challenge:
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Catherine @Reading to the Core
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Mary Lee @A(nother) Year of Reading
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Reflections on the Teche 
Lovely Margaret, especially your movement from one into the next, your ending with nature beckoning, and the warbler—together all create an inspiring calm, thanks! ☺️
Yes. I do feel the peace here. I’m so glad that you find solace in the writing and in the pull of nature. As I “elder” the realization of how loving it is to also goodbye is hitting me in new ways. I’m so glad for friends that know that too and who offer to share their solace. It helps.
Your poems are full of the beauty of nature and how it helps us reflect. Thank you for sharing them, Margaret. Boy, we have shared a similar path with our parents’ decline and passings. I find myself missing my Dad terribly. He would have been 89 on the 12th of this month. Cleaning out a full house is something else I can readily relate to – I’ve found it overwhelming at times. Take care.
You perfectly captured your movement through the three grief events in your three stanzas. Gracefully, thoughtfully, obliquely. And so very right that you moved through anger, landing on the healing power of nature for your self care.
Wow, Margaret – your response to the structural challenge seems effortless, and I’m amazed how you packed in both gut-punch and beauty. Thank you for sharing these, and sending continued thoughts and prayers for comfort and peace. xo Robyn HB
Margaret, our losses have such parallels (my dad in 2023, my mom in 2024, along with assisted living and dementia struggles). Your triptych is lovely and I was particularly moved by the mention of hummingbirds, as hummingbirds were associated with both of my parents and their passing. (Too complicated to explain here, but know that I was touched.) 🙂
I love “calling me back to myself.” Yes, solace.
Margaret, thinking of you as you continue to move through this. I love how each section gives us a glimpse of each emotion. Fish crows are new to me! xo
These are achingly beautiful, Margaret. I’m glad you are feeling called back to yourself. It’s a difficult journey.
This is so beautiful and poignant, Margaret. I hope that nature continues to support you on your journey.