25 Comments

This poem resonates. I’m 55 and working on a finished memoir that I’m turning into fiction. Probably the only book I have in me. I admire this poet just from this poem. Thanks for introducing her to me.

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I've been a huge May Sarton fan for 40 years. This post prompts me to pull out her books again for the winter. Thank you for posting! _/|\_

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Winter is a lovely time to read May Sarton, is it not?

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Absolutely. It's been quite a few years since I read her again. I look forward!

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Sounds like you have read Sarton with as much enthusiasm as my Mom. Several of Sarton's volumes were on a bookshelf which contained the books most important to her.

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What a lovely share. Your Mom and I could have wonderful conversations!

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This poem made me want more! I'd love to know which book you recommend I start with.

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I would go with The House By The Sea-a journal. I still read it at least once a year. Enjoy!

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Increíble.

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Timeless.

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Hmmm. You sound like you're 45

Shhh

You still don't know

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She wrote this in her seventies.

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May Sarton

Her portrait poised and poetic

In the camera's adoring gaze

Reminds me of me- how self-absorbed one could be

When life's claws do not prod one

Into self-sufficiency.

That's May Sarton

she of an age

that granted some the luxury of writing a leisurely, reflective work of poetry

while others hurriedly pocketed

the gems found in the dusty fields they labored in every day

only to return home to the clamorous prose

of children, dinner, the man

hanging by a thread to their lives.

And there lived the women

who glimpsed the flight of geese

so high above the tenement wires

they barely had time to notice

until late at night

between the shouts and squealing tires they would dream that a child's cry had taken wing.

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Timely, as I claim and reclaim my voice to be

The writer, not the silent.

The voice of others who cannot speak.

The survivor, not the victim.

The lover, not the shunned.

The whole and powerful woman

Who I am.

I am now living in Zihuatanejo, Mexico and finishing my memoir: THE ZIHUA DIARIES..."zihua" mans woman in the regional, indeed national Nahuatl indigenous language.

We cannot be silent in the face of injustice, injury, violence against others, or racism.

We cannot abandon hope, education, literacy and voice for working street children, women, men and elders.

We must tell their story, for it is ours.

Learn about and support my work on my Facebook pages:

lisa.b.martin.writer

Write in Mexico

Instagram @zihuawriter

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Oh I loved this. Never heard of her, but that's not noteworthy. I have now and I've going to read on.... thank you for this, it was so fantastic to read and absorb.

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thank you! thank u for aiding my soul find some peace

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"Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!"

Breathtaking final line!

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She wrote my glorious unfolding, as many of the poets do. I find this so comforting that others fought so hard in every day and each word. In their shocking unravelling and within the simplicity and intricacy of creation to just Become and Be… the glorious mess of the ‘I am that I am’

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OhNo! I let the APP read to Me and it doesn’t understand poetry.

I’m scarred and will relished when the wound eases.

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One-of-a-kind! Gratitude.

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Spanish: "En esta única hora vivo todo de mí". Like a mantra!

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Amazing

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I also discovered it, it’s sublime, I’ve known that too, always be busy, do not take the time to observe everything in detail, try to better understand etc. This time is gone, it is not only age (at least for me), it was an awareness that took place, an unusual experience. Thank you for sharing.

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