A poem for the end of November and yet another year added to my ledger of days. And in memory of Ruth Stone, who died just hours ago, at the age of 96. She was and remains a poet who gives me the strength to celebrate an aging woman's vision and imagination.
Letting
go, the leaves try
to teach
me a thing or
two yet
about dying
as if I have not
seen enough
of that falling
away to last
lifetimes of
wondering what if
I crumpled
and fell
to the ground,
who would look
at me, murmuring
oh, what a
graceful
departure, that
old woman floating
so gently
down onto
the compost pile.
from Catching Light, LSU Press
Kathryn, this is such a beautiful poem. It has wonderful rhythm and lightness. I just love it.
ReplyDeleteMay we all have such a "graceful departure."
Susan Gabriel
The poem cascades to its (graceful) ending. Autumnal thoughts, K. What better place to end up than in a compost pile? Aesthetics will require cremation first...
ReplyDeleteImagining your voice as I read this....wondrous and graceful.
ReplyDeleteReally liked this one, Kay--tried to comment when you posted it, but the technology ate my head and I was tearing off somewhere and lost it. But it's a beauty.
ReplyDeleteHelps me know that I am now entering the most creative and strongest part of my artistic career - good thing, since I did get a rather late start...simply beautiful.
ReplyDelete