Months To Years Summer 2018 MTY_Summer2018_v7 - Page 14

On Becoming A Poet By Mary Ann Larkin Germinating made me a poet. My mother died just After a time of sitting, vainly hoping to recover my months after I had married. My body could neither absorb vanished energy, uncontrollable weeping--a mudslide of the horror of her death nor admit to myself that she would weeping-- began to rage through me. Tectonic plates, no longer be my lodestone. Something in me forbade deep in my body, scraped and groaned as grief pushed such suffering. I didn’t choose to stifle my grief. Rather, it against them. Sorrow for my mother, which only deepened simply did not surface. My new life went on, oblivious of as fall turned into winter and winter into spring, convulsed my unexpressed sorrow. me. As I wept, sleep began its work, pulling my body But after 11 years, after marriage and motherhood, I separated from my husband, moving with my children to Cleveland. During my married years, I had begun weaving, in love with the gorgeous yarns I transformed into beautiful fabric ˈHY۝[YH\ܚ] [ZۛۜYK^HHYXYH]ۂۈ[HY\[ۛ[ˈY][ۙ\[^HۘHܘY[[Yݙ\Z[YK[^H^]\[ۋH\وYH[YY[H[ٛܛZ[\][ۙB[[YH[HY\HY ][HH\Y[H[X[\ۙ\وX[ۙYYܝ H[YY ^\YYYH[وX\[ˈ[YH^\\[\^KHܚYYH^HZ[Y\[[Y[[\^HYH]\YZHBX\XYH]\Y^Hܜݙ\[^H[\]Z\YKۛH^H[[\\وYH[Hܛ \XZYK[\XH\Yۘ[YHZ[\\[ۋXX[ܛ[Y\Z[[H H[YHYKXX[ܛ[HYYܘH^\[[HX][HۙHٙH[\[[^H]\YY[HݙY ]]\Hݙ\[YYYKۛH]\[HY\ۋ[H\[YY\]\]\]YH[\[][Z[HY\]YY H[Y[^HY ][\][BZ[ܛX[܈H LHYX\[[HY\Y\^H[H[ܛ[ˈ^HHZ]Y܈YK^H\[\X\™[\KۙH[^K[\\]]HYوۙ\ݙ[[]ܛ\ˈY[ۙ\Y]^B\^H^[\H]]YH^HY[[\HX[K]HYܙۙH][ۈ[Yܝ H\[^\[۸&][ݙH[[\x&\Y][[H[ˈ\ \[YH]\Y 0M