Poetry By Merril D. Smith

      Steve Johnson CC



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Letter from My Mom

There are no straight lines in the heart,
curves form loops, completing cycles
as words handwritten on a page
complete a thought--

This is the third letter I’ve started.
I hope you are well.
Her baby is now two years old. 

The imprint of pen on paper,
marks that last beyond the hand
that wrote them, beyond diminished brain,
and disremembered memories. 

She was a very brave lady.
They emigrated from Russia--

I had forgotten the voice I hear now within
as I read your words,

an echo from before, the past linked to the present
like train cars gliding on rail lines leading to the station.

Yet having finally reached your final destination,
you still send me souvenirs. And they travel
on a special express line, straight to my heart.




Merril D. Smith lives in southern New Jersey near the Delaware River. Her poetry has been published in journals, including Black Bough Press, The Storm, Anti-Heroin Chic, and Nightingale & Sparrow. Her full-length collection, River Ghosts was published by Nightingale & Sparrow Press. 
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