a september poem in june


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.


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


      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.

and then you said:

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