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Poetry Friday -- Marlys West
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liz_scanlon
My daughters are tall and getting taller.

They both get growing pains in their arms and legs.

I feed them, quite a lot, and run them baths, and rub their backs, but there is nothing I can do to ease the stretching in their bones.

I remember my own growing pains, and the hot water bottle I'd tuck between my aching ankles.

It is not easy to grow into these bodies, as natural as they may seem...

This week I found a truly lovely poem by an old friend of mine, Marlys West. It seems apropos to this morning's musings.

Enjoy, everyone, and happy Friday...

 

Here Is the Church
-- Marlys West

They had never spoken
to me before, save one, once, when a basketball jammed
its knuckle and for three days straight that finger

shouted and wept,
wept and shouted,
fat and purple, full of anger. This night

was different. I heard a tiny song from
deep inside the neat, white bones, unlike any melody I knew
and not unpleasant.


(Read the rest here...)

Visit Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect for more poems today...



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Tanita Says :)

(Anonymous)
Oh, I really like this one -- it's both comforting and terrifying all at once.

That is really, really beautiful. "...the night of singing finger bones..." Wow.

Jules
7-Imp

Beautiful poem, one of those that perfectly describes something you've experienced but couldn't or didn't think to articulate. The truth contained therein, like Tanita said, is somewhat terrifying . . .

Wow - great poem, although a little dark! Love the mention of geese near the end. *sigh*

Where do you find these gorgeous things? I hope I don't lie awake thinking about my finger bones tonight...

All the World

(Anonymous)
Elaine Magliaro

Liz,

I just read on Read Roger that your new book is getting a starred review in the September/October issue of The Horn Book. Congratulations!!! Good luck with ALL THE WORLD. It looks like a wonderful book. I'm going to order myself a copy.

P. S. I love Marla Frazee's picture book art.

Oh, Elaine... thank you. That means so much, coming from you. I love Marla's art, too, and am just still in disbelief that it has been matched with my words...

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