I Am Not the Sum of Myself

Day Two


I Am Not the Sum of Myself

I am not the sum of myself
But of this life

The frog-song
First of the season
Calling in the soft warm twilight

The trillium petals
Sweet in the sunlight
Breaking through winter leaf-mold

The bird wings
Blue as the post-storm sky
Dancing through tender branches

We are not the sum of ourselves
But of this life

Confessions, Expectations and Poetry

People write for many different reasons. I write because I love words and because they can sometimes capture and hold experiences long enough to allow me to linger over them.

I wait far too long to record what I have felt in the world through the course of days. I examine importance and angles and decide it is not publishable. So I do not write.

But these moments are of value.
So I begin
A poem each day.

I will record here each day a poem freshly written. They will not be polished nor masterfully crafted, and often may be no longer than a line.

Day One

I Remembered Today Was Your Birthday

I remembered today was your birthday
though it has been 7 years
and I have not felt your presence for many months

I knelt with the camera framing a young friend,
excited to be featured in the newspaper
motivated to participate in her sorority's fundraiser

She fingered a few wisps of hair in place, wetting her lips before
breaking into smile
Snap!
We laughed, we adjusted the plant nearby, we counted three
Snap! then again__"No, not that big," I said

"Wait. Let me start over . . . now . . . okay"
But her head fell to meet her hands, "My mom," she began tearing

"Today was my mom's birthday," I blurted, "but she's been gone
a long time"
"So has mine. She always told me, 'No fake smiles, now!'"

I lowered the camera, "I feel them both here together"

We decided to use the first shot

Later that morning we saw each other again
We hugged
"My mother's name was Evelyn"
I responded, "Mine was Carolyn"

I'm glad, Mom, you made a new friend for your birthday