Poem Or A Thought

Archive Poetry


What does it mean to serve life, then?

All those butterflies we pinned to the big board for various reasons.

We stood and explained why it was better this way.

 What does it take, to say yes, instead of no?

What does it take to make somebody happy?

To grant a wish, to offer time?

Who can bring back my mother,

so that I might set her loose in the garden she never got,

the house,

the time.

Where and when did everything begin to break?

Until we lived like that,

by design.

Poorer and poorer,

from everything we didn’t think we could give.



–Celia Farber


(Aug 19, on the 15th anniversary of my mother’s death.)

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