a september poem in june

Mike

You died in September I remember dirt
on your father’s knees your father
ordered all the leaves to fall I didn’t
know the trees I couldn’t beside him
think how to kneel without
remembering August burning chlorine
on your skin swimming blue sky you
dove under me I floated down I
wanted your mouth against mine in
how many languages can I say forgive
me I didn’t hold my breath

**

Because we were talking about sorry, and someone said forgive. First published in Leveler.

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About redmitten

author of Cracking Geodes Open, Making Good Use of August, and The Peppermint Bottle. poetry editor for IthacaLit. website: https://toomuchaugust.wordpress.com

8 responses to “a september poem in june

  1. Wow, Sherry. The stream-of-consciousness style really captures the pangs here, the sense of not really even knowing how to think about, how to process the moment and memories.

    • redmitten

      uche-

      your visit here is such a pleasure and i am so pleased this steam of consciousness reached you the way that it did. thank you!

  2. kmerrifi

    Of my, Sherry. Devastating.

  3. Heartbreaking.

    Glad to see your piece in RHP, too.

    • redmitten

      kathleen- thank you! i’m so fond of that poem as well. the title came about as a result of listening to rox talk (write) in fb.

  4. Wish I could comment intelligently on this extraordinary poem. I can only say it is beautifully constructed and you’ve explained exactly what went on.

    • redmitten

      consuelo- super to hear from you! there are things in life that come with no words, and yet we try to write the poem that shares this.

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