Mskim Posted July 6, 2006 Share Posted July 6, 2006 This speaks to me as we always spent our summers together camping, especially last summer after she was diagnosed but always before that. Now it is just not the same. "Sitting in the Grass" by Anele Rubin Sitting in the grass under the stars by the extinguished fire, sitting there after the last trip with a jug and a pail of water, amazed at how long the wet logs continue to sizzle, mistaking a firefly in the grass for a spark, confusing, as I look up, stars and fireflies, thinking, though, about my mother, looking at the brilliant pricks of light in the dark sky, at the dark shapes of trees, darker than the sky they stand up against, thinking about how much I love that which is no longer visible, telling my mother out loud, not loud, really, but very quietly saying her name, the personal name I had for her, speaking it to the night sky as our ancestors would pray to those who went before and lit a path back to the source. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Anais Posted July 7, 2006 Share Posted July 7, 2006 Nice poem, thanks for sharing... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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