Sharon Lask Munson
Word by Word
Mother moved from having problems getting dressed, taking medication, to difficulty forming words. She’d begin a sentence, struggle for the next word, lose concentration, and in the process, forget entirely. Each word became so important. Eventually she stopped speaking. She seemed to comprehend, and the loss of speech made her weep.
As Mother’s language disappeared, I found my own work tightening. We were moving in tandem, both of us on a narrowing path. My paragraphs shortened to stanzas. My sentences condensed to lines. My lines developed rhythm, a new intensity. Mother’s last gift to me, a portal into poetry.
summer grass
three-note call
of an oriole
About the Author
Sharon Lask Munson is a retired teacher, poet, old movie enthusiast, and lover of road trips, with many published poems and several books of poetry. Many things motivate her to write: a mood, a memory, the smell of cooking, burning leaves, something observed or overheard, and of course, imagination. She lives and writes in Surprise, Arizona. www.sharonlaskmunson.com.
‘A gift’ – gratefulness instead of mourning for what’s lost.
‘A portal into poetry -‘ beautiful.