Letter to Abe<\/p>\n
– after Izumi Shikibu, a woman of ancient Japan<\/em> I\u2019ve written At Thornton Creek I wonder I wish I knew I don\u2019t remember How lucky I It took Listening Sometimes I There is But on some days <\/p>\n Esther Altshul Helfgott<\/a>\u00a0is a nonfiction writer and poet with a PhD in history from the University of Washington. Her work appears in\u00a0Blue Lyra Review,<\/a> Journal of Poetry Therapy<\/em>,\u00a0Maggid<\/em>, American Imago,<\/em><\/a>\u00a0Raven<\/em>\u00a0Chronicles<\/em>,\u00a0<\/em>Floating Bridge Review<\/em>,\u00a0<\/em>Beyond Forgetting: Poetry and Prose about Alzheimer\u2019s Disease<\/em>,\u00a0<\/em><\/a>HistoryLink<\/em>,<\/a> The Seattle PI blog pages,<\/a> and elsewhere. She\u2019s a longtime literary activist, a 2010 Jack Straw poet,<\/a> and the founder of Seattle\u2019s \u201cIt\u2019s About Time Writer\u2019s Reading Series,\u201d<\/a> now in its 23nd year. Esther\u2019s book,\u00a0Dear Alzheimer\u2019s: A Caregiver\u2019s Diary & Poems,<\/em> is forthcoming from Cave Moon Press in 2013<\/a>. The poem presented here is from her next manuscript, \u201cAfter Alzheimer\u2019s: Poems & Diary.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Letter to Abe – after Izumi Shikibu, a woman of ancient Japan with thanks to Jane Hirshfield and The Ink Dark Moon I\u2019ve written the story of our years together, Abe They still hold me All of them. At Thornton … Continue reading
\n with thanks to Jane Hirshfield and The Ink Dark Moon<\/em><\/p>\n
\nthe story of our years
\ntogether, Abe
\nThey still hold me
\nAll of them.<\/p>\n
\nI saw a cormorant sunning
\non a rock
\nI looked for you
\nbut you weren\u2019t there.<\/p>\n
\nwhich galaxy you\u2019re in
\nnow.
\nAre we still
\nunder the same moon?<\/p>\n
\nwhere you were tonight.
\nI would visit you.
\nWill you send me a message
\nsoon? I\u2019ll wait.<\/p>\n
\nyesterday. It\u2019s the same as today.
\nThe only difference is
\nthe planet moved
\nslightly \u2013<\/p>\n
\nam to have
\nthis chair,
\nthe one you used
\nto sit in.<\/p>\n
\nyou eight years to die.
\nAll that time
\nI waited for you to get better.
\nWhy didn\u2019t you?<\/p>\n
\nto Mozart , I see
\nus holding hands,
\nsnuggling in the movies
\nwatching Amadeus.<\/p>\n
\nwhen I look in the mirror
\nI see you.
\nEven our hair is the same\u2014
\n— curly and mussed.<\/p>\n
\nno longer
\nwear
\na mourner\u2019s
\nfrock.<\/p>\n
\nno sorrow in my missing you
\nonly gratefulness
\nthat we have
\nbeen.<\/p>\n
\nlike today
\nthe third anniversary
\nof your death
\nmy heart longs.<\/p>\n