Origin Story
The night your mother and I made you
the moon shined so bright
it ignited every scrap of love
strung across the room.
The roots she’d stewed,
the chair I’d fixed,
our sweat dripping,
infusing exhortation.
4 thoughts on "Origin Story"
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I love how you evoke so much in so few words, Fanny! I will be tumbling the words “infusing exhortation” in my mind for the next few days, at least.
This is a wonderfully concise poem! Every word earns its keep. I love the sensory details, and the way you blend the abstract with the concrete.
Well done!
Commitment? It certainly has that beautiful ring to it.
“The roots she’d stewed,” I love the sounds of this poem!