by Alden Nowlan
As long as you read this poem
I will be writing it.
I am writing it here and now
before your eyes,
although you can't see me.
Perhaps you'll dismiss this
as a verbal trick,
the joke is you're wrong;
the real trick
is your pretending
this is something
fixed and solid,
external to us both.
I tell you better:
I will keep on
writing this poem for you
even after I'm dead.
Thank you, Alden Nowlan, for this exchange of gifts. I'm giving you my attention, and you, although you've been dead a while, are still writing this poem for me.
Linda has the roundup today, and she's welcoming spring! And today's your first opportunity to sign up for this year's Progressive Poem: go to Irene's blog to pick your date!
12 minutes ago
6 comments:
So lovely to have one's poetry be a lasting legacy.
You got me right in the heart, Ruth. I'm saving this one.
I am often wishing that it would be 'fixed and solid' yet the poem gives hope that it will continue and continue. Wonderful sharing, Ruth!
Cool poem, something I'd never thought about in quite that way.
That was a never-ending gift. That's the good thing about writing.
Thge invitation and promise of those first two lines is so moving, Ruth. Thanks for sharing it.
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