There she was, the mother of me, like a lit plinth,
Heavenly, though I was reared to find this kind

Of visitation impractical; she was an unbearable detail
Of the supreme celestial map,

Of which I had been taught that there was
No such thing.

Lucie Brock-Broido

Tags: mothers awe ambivalence divinity personal-cosmology still-life-with-aspirin

Go to quote

---

Page 1 of 1.

---

---