Thursday, May 3, 2018

In the giving of my eyes to see your face (Yes)

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash
Wie geht's?

Pome is a newsletter by Matthew Ogle. He simply sends out a poem a day by a random poet. That's it.

As I say, simple. But I'm finding myself eagerly looking forward to each day's random poem. 

This was a recent one that stuck:

Yes, you need to read this one a few times. Yes, you need to invest a little effort. But its riches are eventually revealed. Or maybe it just gelled with my mood for the last week.

For me, poetry is a small window into the self. Because every reader sees something different in the images and references. And everyone's interpretation is right.

Mine is contingent on a few contextual facts. My mother passed away in 1983. It's still raw. One of my best friends passed away last week. It's still raw.

I love the title - Fiction. It's made up, open to interpretation, and one person's view. If I get the story right...uncertainty is always a factor. And there are always versions of truth in stories.

Mother's grief could be the actual grief of an actual mother grieving, or, as I saw it, it could be the grief associated with a mother's passing.

The ending, I love, because it is hopeful - breath becomes fog of the living and rather than grief it's looking into each other's eyes again.

Ah, a thing like that!

Love and peace. Me. Miss you mum. Miss you Margo.

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