Linda Pastan Mother Poems
- 1. The Months
January
Contorted by wind,
mere armatures for ice or snow,
... - 2. Something About The Trees
I remember what my father told me:
There is an age when you are most yourself.
He was just past fifty then,
Was it something about the trees that make him speak?
... - 3. Self-portrait
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... - 4. Marks
My husband gives me an A
for last night's supper,
an incomplete for my ironing,
a B plus in bed.
... - 5. The Cossacks
For Jews, the Cossacks are always coming.
Therefore I think the sun spot on my arm
is melanoma. Therefore I celebrate
New Year's Eve by counting
... - 6. The Happiest Day
It was early May, I think
a moment of lilac or dogwood
when so many promises are made
it hardly matters if a few are broken.
...