No time for a sestina
I’ve been reading Deborah Garrison’s poems. Here is the beginning of her “Sestina for the Working Mother”:
The whole poem - and it’s a delight - here.No time for a sestina for the working mother.
Who has so much to do, from first thing in the morning
When she has to get herself dressed and the children
Too, when they tumble in the pillow pile rather than listening
To her exhortations about brushing teeth, making ready for the day;
They clamor with “up” hugs when she struggles out the door.Every time, as if shot from a cannon when she shuts the door.
She stomps down the street in her city boots, slipping from mother
Mode into commuter trance, trees swaying at the corner of a new day
Nearly turned, her familiar bus stop cool and welcoming in the morning.
She hears her own heart here, though no one else is listening…
>> She hears her own heart here, though no one else is listening
Lovely! :)
Comment by Kishore — April 11, 2007 @ 4:48 pm