Wednesday, March 16, 2011

November's Child


When you spilled out of me,
the trees were shedding reds and gold,
baring their heads before the gods.

They took you from my naked
arms, bending down as autumn limbs
towards dropped, round fruit.

You perfected me, completed form,
not sketched in lines as I am now.

Do you remember me?

Once, you were sound,
and I was breath. Unspoken
forgotten poem, I am half-thought.


Forgive me this love, clichéd
and grasping mother love.

Forgive these desperate hands.
Forgive I do not know your name.


When darkness drifts upon my bones, splayed out
in semblance of a life, I sometimes shed this loss.

When I’m half awake and restless tossed,
you call for me to wander beneath autumn trees
where you unfold into those reds and gold.

I am soaked and naked Hail Mary
upon my lips. I say your name.
Your lips kiss my shame, and I
bend to you.

© Ami Mattison

For One Stop Poetry's One Shot Wednesday

Photo Courtesy of Cape Cod Cyclist


  1. this is a rather mournful dirge...i dont know if the baby was given up for adoption and now revisits the mother...that is the feel i get...perhpas one can hope for the better...

  2. I really like this - elegantly worded and emotive.

    Somewhere out there a child aches for their mother just as passionately.

    (My birthday is in November, so I love the title)

  3. It feels to me like the child died. It's very sad.

  4. a fine write Ami...interpretation can be subjective and thought is a good thing...I feel guilt, adoration, Love and shame in your words here...

    "Do you remember me?"...such a question

    Peace, hp

  5. Lyrical, intense, elegiac; also full of love. "Do you remember me?" conjures so many associations; it's a haunting question.

  6. "Once, you were sound,
    and I was breath. Unspoken
    forgotten poem, I am half-thought."

    This section occurs just after the line Maureen quotes, and it reveals a depth of loss, a psychological wound that leaves an individual incomplete, a sketch, a facsimile of mourned security. The supplicant aspect in the speaker's asking for forgiveness reveals a great depth of feeling in addition to stark vulnerability. Indeed, very intense as well as artful.

  7. you had me with the first lines:
    When you spilled out of me,
    the trees were shedding reds and gold..there's so much passion and kind of a deep sadness and hope alone in these few words - love this ami

  8. Oh Ami, you posted this...what a superb but sad piece of work....blessings....bkm

  9. Hi Mattison

    The start was perfect...
    'When you spilled out of me,
    the trees were shedding reds and gold,
    baring their heads before the gods.'
    And then you went on to develop it more strong with each line...
    Your words are so evocative and true to the image that you were creating in this verse. Thanks for sharing.

    ॐ शांति ॐ
    Om Shanti Om
    May peace be... praying for People of Japan
    Connect me at Twitter @VerseEveryDay

  10. Completely heartbreaking Ami. If poetry's purpose is to elicit deep emotion in few words you have succeeded brilliantly with November's Child.

  11. Beautifully written, Ami. Sad, lonely, mother's love... with many interpretations.

  12. A fine weaving of life and longing and loss, creation and resolution, and abnegation. And so many levels of it. The last verse is almost dazing as well as enlightening, so weighted with emotion and yet so free. One meets oneself in that circle of grasping, and indeed stands naked.

  13. hey there...good to see you today...hope you have a marvelous saturday...rolling to NYC next week and plan on going to the Neuyorican poetry slam friday...

  14. This was beautiful. Intense, yes, but capturing the magic of lust and longing.

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