Freddy, Dead at Nine Months
Sometimes Ma, in her extremity,
weeping privately over the washtub,
senses my presence, feels that I'm near,
calls herself a fool. But she's not mistaken.
I *am* there behind the stove. I am the heat
on her brow, my privilege to tarry,
suffered to loiter as I couldn't in life,
moonbeam, magpie, gust in the slough.
No chip on my ineffable shoulder. Rather
a rich air of communion, buoyance—what
you feel when your heart swells. And
there *they* are—Ma, my sisters, isolated,
stragglers, each with her own reduction:
*should have been me, could have been me.*
Staggered, drifting, aimless as cattle
in a blizzard, heads lowered, numb,
the horizon hopelessly obscured.
—Sharon McCartney, The Love Song of Laura Ingalls Wilder
kate
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It is a burden for those left behind.
wow.
each with her own reduction:
*should have been me, could have been me.*
That's it. Exactly.
Oh how I love this poem. The power of language is amazing.
I just wanted to point out that it is from her new book The Love Song of Laura Ingalls Wilder. http://www.nightwoodeditions.com/excerpt/TheLoveSongofLauraIngallsWilder/reviewquote
To day marks 4 years since Janell's death. Thank you for posting this.
Thanks for posting Sharon McCartney's poem, crediting it, and linking to where people can find out more information and buy her book, if they want. However, the link you posted doesn't seem to be working so I'll try posting another one here:
The Love Song of Laura Ingalls Wilder
Hello, all - thank you so, so much for ammending this post with the proper link to Sharon's work. I'm going to link it now within the post.
And m, thanks for passing this on in the first place. It really is the most lovely, chewy, spot-on collection of words.
And Liz, peace to you tonight. xo
I've always wondered what my son would tell me if only we could talk to each other. love this poem.
Thanks for sharing, I've never read this before. I still suffer from survivor guilt from my brother's death and it's been 24 years. This poem reminded me of the poem by Holland, "Death is Nothing at All" and the lines-
I am waiting for you,
for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just around the corner.
All is well.
Do you know what a thing it is to come here and know I am not alone?
That somewhere else tonight is someone who feels it too?
Thank you for this site.
Whaaa... I had dinner with Sharon just last night. Do you know her, Kate?
Mad - I didn't even know she was local. This poem was sent to me by a friend in BC who is also a poet... I loved it.
how neat!