โBeginning at the Endโ โ a dโVerse poetics prompt
Epigraph:
As if we could hear music inside the words.
– Gail Newman
The intervals between our letters are dependably constant. Our friendship forged for the ages. Our affection warm and lasting. Our love spanning vast oceans and generations. I write to you about the New York City blizzard that has snowed us in this Chanukah, while my grandchildren throw themselves upon my sticky jelly donuts. We are getting old, dear friend; how many frayed and yellowed letters in shoeboxes? Most days I usually stay at home in my cozy nightgown. I look often at your photographs. Some days we still speak. Other days I reread your elegant script. Your tinkling laughter continues to ring in every syllable.
At dโVerse, we were asked to write a poem inspired by the final line of another poet’s work, among a list of several. We were allowed to use the line as an epigraph at the beginning of the poem. I chose the line from Gail Newman’s poem ‘Trust’ as my epigraph.
We were specifically instructed to: write our poems as continuations of where the poets of our choice left off, thematically, in the same mood, rather than literally, giving special thought to our own final lines.
Trust
by Gail Newman
The country between us
has no borders.
The barbed wire has been cut.
The walls decimated.
The moat drained beneath the bridge.
I cross over to you carrying a metal lunch pail
filled with bologna sandwiches, mayonnaise
spread from crust to crust. We sit
in the grass, our skirts spread over pale legs.
Some days I wear jeans, a blouse with open collar.
I look into your face as into a mirror. Some days we speak.
Other times we remain silent. As if we could hear
music inside the words.
The Skeptic's Kaddish ๐ฎ๐ฑ 
Pleasantly familiar – thanx!
William,
Thank you; I’m glad you enjoyed it.
All best,
David
I love good poetry. Cheers!
Thanks, Clarence. That’s very kind.
Yours,
David
I loved the poem to your father on another post. It was very touching. Your father
must have been a really nice man.
Gwen.
I’m nothing if not biased… but, yes, I think my father was a very special man.
Thanks, Gwen.
Yours,
David
Using lines as prompts from two different writers, you have managed to make this poem feel, intensely personal…intensely yours David. Mazel tov!
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An excellent read.
Thanks for visiting, Ali ๐
-David
Very fine.
Thank you, Joan. Much appreciated!
Yours,
David
Beautiful!
Sheri,
Thank you so much!
-David
Of course. Poetry is to be appreciated. โบ
a loving but sad tribute to all our elderly … very heartfelt reflection!
Thank you so very much, Kate ๐
I’ll be honest… I didn’t really *feel* this one. Not sure why. Maybe it is fiction? I’ve most been moved by your “David’s perspective” ones. (I say this mostly so you know I’m not just flattering you on those… :)) ๐
Lia,
I’ll be honest… I agree with you.
I’m pretty good at fiction, but sometimes I feel that I use it to avoid writing about what’s really going on with me – it comes easier and has less emotional weight – so it’s an easier way to respond to a prompt.
so – I’m totally with you – this poem felt somewhat insignificant to me when I wrote it. And also – for me personally, it doesn’t feel super poetic either.
Yours ๐
David
Hugs man. You are honestly awesome. ๐คโจ๐ค Thanks for the process explanation. Totally rad. (and… I mean that. ๐)
and – two more thoughts:
1) I think my Mom would agree with you.
2) given your usual style and content, your comment doesn’t surprise me at all ๐
1) ๐ honoured. :))
2) ๐ I know right? I kinda wanted to de-justify my “judgement” with that exact statement, but I couldn’t find the right words. I do consider you to be a genius. Hope you know that. ๐ค
1) me too!
2) I love how your finished your attempt at criticism with a compliment. thank you ๐
Was only saying the truth. ๐
Thank you, Lia – that is very, very kind.
I do take pride in my smarts, but I am certain that I am not a genius (and that’s not humility speaking).
Even my father who was a truly brilliant mathematician wasn’t a genius in my estimate, and I’m pretty sure he was smarter than me (although that is subjective so I could be wrong – don’t actually know what our respective IQs were)
Anyway, thank you again – your compliment makes me happy particularly because it comes from you.
Yours,
David
Ok David… I will trust your judgement, though you are pretty damned smart, and a hyper-original and creative specimen, in these parts. :)) Love hearing more of your story… My dad was/is a mathematician too. Also brilliant, in his own way. And for the heartwarming words… thank you. :))
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Well written
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I love that you were inspired by a different poem.
During the lockdown for CoVid I started to throw away old letters. Last week I found a letter my grandmother wrote to my mother just a few months before her death in 1948.
Made me really appreciate the shoebox full of letters with love in every syllable.
Thanks, Marie! In truth, I was just following the prompt from d’Verse – but, yes, the poem itself (rather than just its last line) inspired me – particularly because yesterday was International Holocaust Remembrance Day (by coincidence), which relates directly to Gail Newman!
Yours,
David
Writing letters! No such warmth to be saved and reread and savored in emails. symphony. in the digital world has been captured and contained on YouTube. But a handwritten letter…now that is a symphony. (K)
Kerfe, I’m old enough to remember having a pen pal ๐
Interesting. My older daughter is not that much younger than you, but I don’t ever remember her writing more than the obligatory thank you. I had many pen pals, and every once in awhile search online for the one from Ceylon/Sri Lanka, whom I lost touch with during the years of unrest. Unfortunately the letters were lost during one of my many moves–I would love to have them now.