• Home
  • Contact
  • scholarship application
  • the latest
Rader Ward Foundation
  • Home
  • Contact
  • scholarship application
  • the latest

daily poetry: the last time

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “The Last (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles could include: “The Last Cookie,” “The Last Roll of Toilet Paper,” “The Lasting Impression,” “The Last Word,” and/or “The Last Starfighter.”

I guarantee this won’t be the last prompt of the month. So get your poem on today, and I’ll see you again tomorrow. — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest


the last time

Mothers sometimes lament
in contemplative moments
you often don’t know
that something you do
is happening for the last time

There was a last time I carried you
you were at least six
and loved to be carried
although of course you could
get around perfectly well by yourself

There was a last time I tied your shoes
although this, too, was something
you were content to let me do
even after you had the skills

In Montessori education
there’s a philosophy of
”help me … do it myself.”
It is one to which
you did not ascribe

You were happy for help
or to have me do it for you
so you could focus on
whatever lit up your imagination
and the latest idea you had
and how to bring it to fruition.

The last time:

something is commonplace,
usual,
everyday,

until it isn’t.


There was a last time I touched you,
this time in stark awareness it was the last.
I held your hand
and tried in vain to store up
a lifetime’s worth of handholding.

I used up all the Kleenex in the room
and all the light inside me
and walked out in darkness

the last time.

tags: aprpad, poetry month, poetry, last time, death, growing up, parenting, mothers, mother and child, love and loss, saying goodbye
Thursday 04.16.20
Posted by Susan Ward
 

home again

We are almost there! Get through today, and tomorrow’s the final poem(s) of April!

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “(blank) Again,” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then write your poem. Possible titles include: “Here We Go Again,” “On the Road Again,” “Stumped on What to Write Again,” and “Doing the Wrong Thing Again.” — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest

Home again

I suppose they call it
”feeling at home”
because that’s the place
you’re supposed to feel that way.

Oh, I do:
safe, comfortable, free.
Almost everywhere I go,
I look forward to coming home again.

I know some people think —
even you, perhaps —
they could not live anymore
in a home in which a loved one died.

To me this home
is not filled with the day of his death
but the year after year after year of life
he lived.

In vain I wish
the comforts of home
had been enough
to make him stay.

They are for me.

tags: aprpad, poetry, home, life, death, comfort
Monday 04.29.19
Posted by Susan Ward
 

lost and alone

For today’s prompt, write a lone poem. Perhaps the poem is about a solitary wanderer or person who just prefers to go it alone. Or a lone winner, lone wolf, or some other solo individual. Or alternatively, I’ll accept poems that are about loans or that are about being alone. — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest

Lone

Bereavement is a solitary world
No one else is living your life
— even those who mourn the same loss

Some respond according to norms
While some are outliers
Some grieve ‘properly,’
and some are shunned
because their mourning makes other people uncomfortable.

Maybe you cry too much.
Say their name too much,
talk openly about what happened.
Don’t manage to ‘move on’ at an acceptable speed.
Continue to rage and rail.

Maybe you fail to return
to being the same person you were before
— how dare you not bounce back
from your whole life imploding?

People have been dying
since people have been.
Why are we so terrible at this?

How can we undergo an experience
that has happened or will happen
to every single person who ever has lived
— the loss of a loved one —
and still be alone?

tags: aprpad, poetry, lone, alone, bereavement, mourning, grief, death
Wednesday 04.10.19
Posted by Susan Ward