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“Visiting Day” by Rhina P. Espaillat

By Luke Stromberg • May 13, 2018 • E-Verse Universe

She still remembers me, she strokes my face.
She made me in her body’s deepest place

and fed me from herself. I was her moon.
I comb her hair and feed her with a spoon

and dress her in clean clothes. She understands;
she pats her empty purse with eager hands

and walks about the grounds with me. She knows
but cannot always say this is a rose.

The words she taught me are the shapes I see:
because she spoke the sun, it came to be;

she called me out of nothing and I came.
Will I still be when she forgets my name?

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"Visiting Day"Mother's DaypoempoemspoetryRhina P. Espaillat
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"Meeting Point" by Louis MacNeice

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  • hamstring01@yahoo.com'
    Reply Mac Gay January 21, 2022 at 1:45 pm

    Lovely poem. Rhina was very nice to me when I came up to celebrate Leon Stokesbury at West Chester. Thank you, Rhina, for your kindness and Happy Birthday!

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Christopher LaRosa's setting of Ernest Hilbert's poem "Nights of 1998" Headed for Mexico City

About the Author

Luke Stromberg

Luke Stromberg is the Associate Poetry Editor of E-Verse. His work has appeared in The Philadelphia Inquirer, The New Criterion, The Hopkins Review, Think Journal, and several other venues.

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