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my mother now like
the wind
by rob
plath
my mother now like the wind
flying over time
& slipping on
a cloak of feathers
visits me as a bird
saying w/ her wings
this is yr summer
just as it was once mine
don’t forget to walk
along the old pier
taking inventory of billowing sails
on the horizon
my mother now like the wind
flying over time
& wrapping herself in vapor
visits me as a cloud
saying w/ her un-aloof tufts
this is yr summer
just as it was once mine
don’t forget to braille the zinnias
& welcome purple ribbons
of the sunset
into yr rods & cones
my mother now like the wind
flying over time
& pulling on a silver hat
visits me as a star
saying w/ her twinkling brim
this is yr summer
just as it was once mine
don’t forget to sit
on a wooden bench
w/ yr knees pulled up
to yr open heart
beneath the night sky
& daydream just like
the man up in the moon
rob
plath misses his cat Daisy. he hangs out w/ her ghost on his shoulder as he
writes poems & paints & takes photographs. see more of his work at
www.robplath.com
Bernice Holtzman’s
paintings
and collages have appeared in shows at various venues
in Manhattan, including the Back Fence in Greenwich Village, the Producer’s
Club, the Black Door Gallery on W. 26th St., and one other place she
can’t remember, but it was in a basement, and she was well received. She is the
Assistant Art Director for Yellow Mama.
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