Lois Greene Stone, writer and poet, has been syndicated worldwide. Poetry and personal essays have been included in hard & softcover book anthologies. Collections of her personal items, photos, and memorabilia are in major museums including twelve different divisions of The Smithsonian.
Sisters
When did the touching cease?
Had it always been absent
though I didn't notice?
We laughed, shared secrets,
or were the secrets solely mine?
We grew up swinging hands
clasped with common blood;
finding friendship, we spoke
with horror of estrangement.
Or was I the one who spoke
while your hand simply submitted?
On parallel paths we walked
pretending it was one; you
sharply veered, disappeared,
without words of warning.
With pained awareness of loss,
I've retraced trying to
comprehend deception
artfully performed, or did I
deceive myself because
I so loved you?
(Previously published in: Winter 2012 "Shemom")
Hospital Games
"You look much better.
It's sunny out. The
kids all send their love;
but how I wish they'd
clean their rooms. I've
errands to run. So
glad you're getting
well. I'll pop in
tomorrow. Much love."
Oh, God. Why
do we weight ourselves
with the unspoken?
She'll be dead soon
and we've a conspiracy of
silence
about serious conversation.
(Previously published in : Summer 2009 “Shemom”)
Motherhood Lasts Forever
I had the feeling that
my daughter needed magic
kisses, when we spoke
on the telephone. Once
I kissed her girlhood
face to make hurts vanish.
She's a grown woman,
so my sparkle-dust
is now used for
listening and knowing
when not to talk.
(Previously published in the Fall 2001 "Shemom" and March 2016 "Whispers")
Sisters
When did the touching cease?
Had it always been absent
though I didn't notice?
We laughed, shared secrets,
or were the secrets solely mine?
We grew up swinging hands
clasped with common blood;
finding friendship, we spoke
with horror of estrangement.
Or was I the one who spoke
while your hand simply submitted?
On parallel paths we walked
pretending it was one; you
sharply veered, disappeared,
without words of warning.
With pained awareness of loss,
I've retraced trying to
comprehend deception
artfully performed, or did I
deceive myself because
I so loved you?
(Previously published in: Winter 2012 "Shemom")
Hospital Games
"You look much better.
It's sunny out. The
kids all send their love;
but how I wish they'd
clean their rooms. I've
errands to run. So
glad you're getting
well. I'll pop in
tomorrow. Much love."
Oh, God. Why
do we weight ourselves
with the unspoken?
She'll be dead soon
and we've a conspiracy of
silence
about serious conversation.
(Previously published in : Summer 2009 “Shemom”)
Motherhood Lasts Forever
I had the feeling that
my daughter needed magic
kisses, when we spoke
on the telephone. Once
I kissed her girlhood
face to make hurts vanish.
She's a grown woman,
so my sparkle-dust
is now used for
listening and knowing
when not to talk.
(Previously published in the Fall 2001 "Shemom" and March 2016 "Whispers")
~Lois Greene Stone
