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The Last Word
There could be this other way, she said, of living from the inside out.
Really doing it, she meant.
Letting go of, “I am she, of this name.
Of this home, and marriage, and weight.
Of this conduct. Of these beliefs, and not those.”
Instead, she said, it could be like this:
I weave at the river. I speak with fish.
When I stand at the water, the sun is in my chest.
The woods walk me home.
Most of the things I know have no words,
but I need none, for I am them.
On my last day, memory will be a blazing orange sunset,
and I’ll rest in the sling of the horizon.
The last word on my lips will be member:
I was a member of this, a limb of it.
I was that blessed —- to be a limb of it.
– Tara Mohr
photo credit: Tj Holowaychuk
Join the discussion 9 Comments
The first words that sprung to mind: “Thank you”.
Which I am now writing to you: thank you for this poem.
Please keep sharing your writing with us. It changes me.
Made my heart skip a beat. Thank You!
Isn’t it wonderful to write like this. Poetry reaches places that prose can not. Thanks!
This really touched me. I love it.
Lovely words. Very inspiring. Thank you.
“…the sun is in my chest.
The woods walk me home.”
Wow. This poem, these lines…
Beautiful. Thank you..!
I love this so much.
I love you dear tara…