Something about this disturbed me enormously; to leave no room for possibilities or mysteries or hope, no matter what the statistics said. And I remembered how I had, just two years earlier, felt this way when my precious mother was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2015. I wanted somehow to abide with hope and to live fully in each moment with her.
Where were you when you started to actually write the poem? And please describe the place in great detail. I was at my neighborhood restaurant/cafe (La Brioche) where I often go to write. It is a sumptuous old-world kind of place with classical music playing, elegant wall sconces and wallpaper, and big brocaded chairs. My kind of place!
How many drafts of this poem did you write before going to the final? I don’t actually keep rough drafts, and I’m not really sure there were too many anyway. This poem came gushing forth, truly.
Were there any lines in any of your rough drafts of this poem that were not in the final version? And can you share them with us? Not that I recall.
want readers of this poem to take from this poem?
I would hope that readers would feel the urgency and the passion of my stance, and also perhaps the deep and continuing love I have for my mother, who passed away in 2016 (Left: Penelope "Penny" Potos in 2016)
I wanted only to sit beside my mother, shrunken a little
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