Archive for the ‘Sharon Olds’ Category


Sometimes, I just stand back in total amazement. I have two beautiful, healthy daughters who are just lovely inside and out. And now a grandbaby on the way. My wish…my hope, is that this baby will arrive with ease; a healthy glow and lust for life.

In the last six days, I have covered a lot of ground–probably in the neighborhood of 1200 miles…including two round trips to Toronto by car. This morning I left at 9:30 and arrived at just in time for yoga at 5:45…US Customs slowed me down considerably. I loved my time in the car–my alone time and the time I spent with Sara…both rich and refreshing. I thought of this poem by Sharon Olds–for us it would need to be retitled: 59/26.


Brushing out our daughter’s brown
silken hair before the mirror
I see the grey gleaming on my head,
the silver-haired servant behind her. Why is it
just as we begin to go
they begin to arrive, the fold in my neck
clarifying as the fine bones of her
hips sharpen? As my skin shows
its dry pitting, she opens like a moist
precise flower on the tip of a cactus;
as my last chances to bear a child
are falling through my body, the duds among them,
her full purse of eggs, round and
firm as hard-boiled yolks, is about
to snap its clasp. I brush her tangled
fragrant hair at bedtime. It’s an old
story—the oldest we have on our planet—
the story of replacement.



Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: