I was looking for a poem to post for Poetry Friday. I found Hurry, my selection for today, at my first stop—American Life in Poetry, Column 218. Ted Kooser writes in his introduction that Hurry is one of his favorite mother-daughter poems. It’s now one of mine.
Hurry
by Marie Howe
We stop at the dry cleaners and the grocery store
and the gas station and the green market and
Hurry up honey, I say, hurry,
as she runs along two or three steps behind me
her blue jacket unzipped and her socks rolled down.
Where do I want her to hurry to? To her grave?
To mine? Where one day she might stand all grown?
You can read the rest of the poem here.
********************
At Wild Rose Reader, I have Poems in Limbo—or unpolished poems for which I may never write a final draft.
Irene Latham has the Poetry Friday Roundup at Live. Love. Explore!
4 comments:
*sigh* How sweet! Thank God they keep laughing and skipping along no matter how we are distracted and hurried.
Andi,
I really miss the days when my Sara was a little girl. She and I and her dad always had lots of laughs and good times together. She was the greatest kid.
I remember the days when I was a working mother always trying to get so many things done. This poem struck a cord with me.
I love the ending -- the surprises we get when we stop doing things OUR way and let the kids lead!
marie howe is just wonderful.
Post a Comment