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May 10, 2012


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Thanks for posting, DL. This poem reminds me how nothing much matters but the heart.

The Stranger really is so amazing. And how the issue of coldness, self-determination, and philosophy of that book head in one direction while the narrative of this particular poem head in a more complicated one works so beautifully. The young man. His ironic gift. And the way one can see with his particular mother, right there IN the irony, that beautiful sense of connection. So opposite of Camus. And this is roughly an anniversary, yes? I remember being in shul thoughts pointing south, right around shavuot, and nothing good came of it. Camus is the order of the day this month in Pasadena, California. Yesterday, the teacher asked some question about right and wrong, connected to the book, and someone I love opined that Camus would have objected to the framework of the question. A 40-minute footnote resulted. Thank you for posting this!

Thank you Emma -- and you Jenny. My mother died on Sunday, May 10, 2009, which was Mother's Day that year. It was the jahrzeit that prompted me to write the poem. -- DL

You never get over it, do you? My mom died in 1990 - and I miss her every day.

What a lovely piece, David! My mom died 12 years ago. I think and write about her all the time. So our paths cross again. I had an essay about my mom called "Mom's Lessons on Love" published in The Boston Globe Sunday Magazine on May 9, 2010.

It's my current post on on my blog: LOVE 'N STUFF: My So-Called Blog.

Happy Mother's Day to our MOMS!

Nancy Davidoff Kelton

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I left it
on when I
left the house
for the pleasure
of coming back
ten hours later
to the greatness
of Teddy Wilson
"After You've Gone"
on the piano
in the corner
of the bedroom
as I enter
in the dark

from New and Selected Poems by David Lehman

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This Way Out

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Ringfinger was nervous
Pinky terrified
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that Hand might succumb
to the rule of Thumb.



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