“ROME – Emma Morano, at 117 the world’s oldest person who is also believed to have been the last surviving person born in the 1800s, died Saturday at her home…she had stopped breathing in the afternoon while sitting in an armchair at her home in Verbania, a town on Italy’s Lake Maggiore…”

will I turn into an old woman
who chatters about birds
while fondling my thin paper hands
weathered timelines
repeating fond memories
will this make me
like other old women
who have taken to soft chairs
with hard backs, 
curving spines straight as possible
am I to gaze upon wisp sails of clouds
by a humble lake house in need of repair
a shawl
hope I don’t
cover my bony shoulders in a shawl
while bobbing on a front porch with room enough for two rockers
will I hear soothing cricket songs in the empty silences
of my own making
the voice articulating from my throat
let it not scratch like an eviscerated cat
let my speech float as unpolished clarinet notes
playing a backyard symphony
will there be foggy mirrors and tarnished hair pins
and dutiful visits
will they one day listen to my sleeping words
promise their consciences
to lay down these musings between antiqued pages
cloth-bound and closed
so we can remember her
will I stare at the dying trees
and imagine
worn paintbrushes against a diluted prussian green sky
will I exaggerate the view
for the sake of beautiful words
if tomorrow is my end
against the cerulean canvas
where I paint myself
may I be remembered as more
than just an embossed name on a closed book

swing dancer

I’m working on a new writing project – not sure what it will shape into. I’m pushing things around and returning to some older posts (nervous about what I might find). If I discover any piece worth salvaging, I’m going to do my best to attempt improving its lyrical quality and meaning. Thank you.


8 thoughts on “emma

  1. Beautiful work AnnMarie. I posted some tweets about ‘love of the monster’ last night i got 728 followers so more reached people. You should do another book. I should go back and read some of your older stuff. I know there is stuff I haven’t read. I remember there was a cool book you had started. I stopped smoking since I last talked to u going in hospital. I collect dvds or sports games instead. That is my form of coping. I am going back to lifting as fun. I got great lifting gloves. Basketball is my way of dropping sugars. I want to get bigger. The more muscle I have the more weight I can lose. I am going on a walk too nice out. Happy Easter!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Dan
      so glad you’re trying to kick the smoking – tis bad for heart and soul
      I am working on a new project but it will be a while in the making
      I keep you in my thoughts, the difficulties you face daily – and you manage to keep trying and creating and being so very kind and thoughtful of others
      You hang in there and maintain the positive thoughts – be well, be creative, be happy

      Liked by 1 person

  2. You know, AM, this is a very moving, fitting tribute to that Italian woman who just died (she ate 2 eggs a day and, I think, candy – so go figure). The pacing of this piece (notice: I’m not saying “poem” even though it IS) is so lovely and rhythmic, too – it’s a fun lyrically to read aloud (would make a good “reading” poem). Too many enchanting lines/phrases for me to mention; I might as well just re-type the poem. Another sendable, if you ask me. DS

    Liked by 1 person

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