On Rewriting a Poem

 

{Sometimes old poems ask to be reworked. This is a small example of just that.}

 

 

                                  

On Growing Old Together, A Love Poem

 

Will you scatter me over water
or throw me to the winds,
letting me float away?

 

Will your ashes mingle                                                                                       
with mine one day
when you too are gone . . .

              Ashes to ashes . . .

 

Will you take my hand again
and hold me close against the wind?
Will your eyes always smile with mine?

              Dust to dust . . .

 

Will our hearts travel as one
no matter where that might be?
Will our love be forever?

              Two stars together.

 

 

 

November 2025

 

This is a love poem written for my husband. We met in 1974, fifty-one years ago. This poem originally appeared on this blog in 2015, but I was never really happy with the ending. It never felt “right” to me. Those of you who are writers will know the feeling. You will know that some poems are meant to pop up again for you to rework it until it really is complete, and this is what I have done.

 

Growing older together has been a gift to both of us. We have shared so much and grown so much. Love is the one constant in the equation we call life. This poem is dedicated to my beloved husband and to all who have loved and been loved.

 

 

I’ve recorded myself reading the poem should you care to listen. Just click on the button below and give it a half a minute to begin. 

 

Ritchie and Mary, 1976

Poor brown moth … (three tanka)

 

 

Three tanka published last February in the lovely journal, GUSTS:

Gusts No. 38  Contemporary Tanka, Canada,
Fall/Winter 2024  

 

 

 

Compliments of “Draw Botanical”

 

a day lily blooms
for a single day
this brevity
a wonder to some,
unsettling to others

 

 

 

 

 

 

poor brown moth
trapped in a web
      the more you flutter
the tighter those
fine strands pull

 

 

the art aisle holds
such soft sable brushes
wedge, round, pointed, flat
patiently waiting
to adorn my words

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A gathering basket . . . (tanka)

 

 

 

a gathering basket
filled with rosehips & hazels –
why is it so hard
to put back all the bits
and pieces you left behind?

 

 

 

Published in GUSTS: Contemporary Tanka 33 (Tanka Canada)

 

 

Nature dawn rosehips by Kasie Schlagel

Whirlwinds (tanka)

 

Redlights, Volume 17, No. 1, January 2021

 

 

Photography by Autumn Mott Rodeheaver

 

whirlwinds of scarlet
and ochre leaves
flit across the square –
days of self-isolation spent
learning to slow down

 

 

 

Tanka No. 2: pale pink petals

Here’s the second tanka published in
Gusts no. 32, Fall/Winter 2020

 

 

pale pink petals
scattered on the desk
one by one the days
of isolation pass,
each fading to nothing

 

 

 

 

Tanka No. 1: Lapis lazuli . . .

Three tanka published in the winter edition of Gusts, Contemporary Tanka, the journal of Tanka Canada. It’s always a huge thrill to be included in this special journal of tanka. I’ll offer them one at a time.

Gusts no. 32, Fall/Winter 2020

lapis lazuli, delft blue
and French ultramarine . . .
the blueness of blue
in these tired veins
just won’t let go