You can run, but can you hide? (Mother’s Day10)

Grieving is hard. How long does it take to forget someone you love?

The Secret
The jagged edges of grief tear at my spirit
they pull and snag
and rip and shred

Is there a secret to surviving with
the fabric of my life
somewhat intact?

But Can I Hide?
Anxious to get the grieving done
I run and run and run and run

Thinking at last I’m almost there
I glimpse her apron hanging,
still hanging, hanging
by the stair

(Both poems excerpted from The Last Violet: Mourning My Mother, Moving Beyond Regret, copyright 2002 Lois Tschetter Hjelmstad)


Beth L. Gainer 31-05-2012, 16:57

This poem resonates deeply with me. It’s so tempting to run from grief. I wish I could sometimes.

hjelmstd 31-05-2012, 19:35

Thanks, Beth. It doesn’t help to run. Grief always catches up.

Yvonne 02-06-2012, 06:24

Lois, your poetry is so beautiful and never fails to stop me in my tracks.

hjelmstd 02-06-2012, 17:19

Thank you, Yvonne.

Anne strobridge 02-06-2012, 15:21

I like the fabric motif in this pair of poems: the shredding and tearing in the first one showing up in the apron on the stair, just as if the mother had taken it off just a minute before to answer the doorbell. Poetry: the best words in the best order.

hjelmstd 02-06-2012, 17:14

Anne, you always find things in my writing that I did not realize were there. You are a great teacher and beloved friend.


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