I didn’t
know
I was
healthy,
but only
for
a finite
moment,
partly
up to me
partly
up to him;
my
disease.
I didn’t
know
I was
dying,
how
foolish
to waste
a moment
a day
a month
a year
a decade.
I heard
once
or twice
that we
choose
our life
as if
sitting
on a star
or talking
to God
or…
How
is it
in
pre-life?
Why would I
choose
to suffer?
to leave
too soon?
to be
a tragic
figure?
to leave
them,
to
wither
away
to
nothing?
These erasure poems are created from Mary Oliver’s original works: ‘The Moths,’ ‘Spring,’ and ‘Hearing of Your Illness’ from Three Poems for James Wright. The words and format are my artistic interpretations inspired by her poetry.
Erasure poetry allows me to engage with existing works in a deeply personal way, revealing hidden layers of meaning and emotion within Mary Oliver’s already exquisite poetry. Each poem below reflects a conversation between her words and my creative voice.
Erasure Poem from Mary Oliver’s “The Moths“
There’s a kind that glimmers.
The forest
The pink
Rising
Anything leads
More, more energy.
I was
Running
I stopped.
Unbearable the world,
The pain.
I noticed the forest.
The moths fluttering
Shadows to my reflection.
Green wings
Burn brightly.
Sometimes the dawn
Motionless
In those dark halls.
Erasure Poem from Mary Oliver’s “Spring“
A bear
Is staring
All night.
Four fists
Flicking the gravel
Touching the cold one—
This world.
Rising,
A black ledge.
Her claws
Silence the trees.
Whatever
Life poems its music—
It’s glass
Dazzling,
Breathing.
I think,
Wordlessness.
Perfect.
Erasure Poem from Mary Oliver’s “Hearing of Your Illness“
Your illness—
A broken wing.
Fall,
That hesitation
Rising.
I went to Ohio.
Nothing was there.
Trapped, unable,
The creek
Dark breathed fast.
Red blossoms
Lay down in a rank field.
Darkness.
Moment by moment
I felt better.
Pain, they knew,
Would have longed—
The hunger,
Flowing.
They loved you
And waited,
A small pulse—
Their song.
I learned,
With grief,
You went home.