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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO MY MOTHER, by MARY SINTON LEITCH Poet's Biography
First Line: Your form is dim
Last Line: In memory of you!
Subject(s): Mothers
First Line: Your form is dim
Last Line: In memory of you!
Subject(s): Mothers
YOUR form is dim; your hands, your brow, your face
Are lost, and only some elusive grace
Remains of you for memory to prize:--
A fluttering bit of lace,
A ribbon--oh, the past is pitiless
And will not yield you to my aching eyes!
Is this forgetfulness?
Mother, not so! For your escape is of
The body, not the spirit, and my love
Holds you--forgotton--intimately sweet,
And precious far above
The need of flesh to keep remembrance true.
Forgotten?--Ah, my very pulses beat
In memory of you!
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