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Poem: Days of Awe

A poem by Joy Gaines-Friedler.\n
[additional-authors]
September 9, 2015

September. The moon’s gone empty

as though it too seeks a place inside itself.

The pool equipment stowed, the mowers

returned to the shed. A quiet ascends

like the silence after bells. Soon

the night birds will call other night birds.

Each call a small pledge.

It is difficult to ask forgiveness.

Easier to accept I suppose. I will ask

my mother, who can no longer remember,

if she’s eaten today, if she’s seen my dead father

or the way the earth evolves

beneath the unrelenting moon —

the way what disappears still remains.

Prayer is as much defiance as it is agreement.

Yes, she’ll answer, Sure. Then, 

I’m fine. Like those night birds, I will listen hard.


Joy Gaines-Friedler is the author of two full-length collections of poetry. She teaches poetry and creative writing for nonprofits in the Detroit area, including to young adults at risk and parents of murdered children.

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