Sylvia Poem by Don Pearson
Sylvia
(For Julia Howe)
As I celebrated my own dissociation
from Independence Day celebration,
a voice spoke to me,
across five decades,
from her Winter in 1963.
She called my name,
with the edgy clarity
of a pheasant in a snowfield,
bored herself into my brain
like crackling
shards of ice
or broken marble.
When I asked why she wanted me,
she replied that everyone needs
a mirror.
-
5th July 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/8/2024 7:13:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
