Poems & Essays

17 Jun

New Year Son

General/Column No Response

The year started off
with rain, or was that just
the old one
dying?
He said
he’d spend the night in town,
but I left
the lights on for him, anyway.

Eccentric, I guess
that lights in the dark
might lend my hope
to one who isn’t mine.

I started off
with rain
tears of a newborn
fallen to earth to grow again
through pain to light
and tunneled back I wonder now
how his life will turn.

I don’t really
think this way on other days.
Like overlapping hash marks on the chalkboard
marking, marking, marking
it all begins again
near or far he’s always here
the last best light
in my heart

Mimi Whittaker lives in Northern California on the shore of a lake. Raised in upstate New York, she often finds her writing travels back to the Hudson River and the Adirondack Mountains as often as it does the beautiful coast of California. Her work appears in California Quarterly, Digging Our Poetic Roots (anthology), Fish Magazine (Ireland), Peregrine Journal and various publications. She placed second in the Robert Frost Poetry competition in 2011. She has authored 3 books of poetry and short prose and one novel and is currently working on a new collection of poetry and short fiction.
Her work is most informed by the people who have shaped her life. She may stop writing someday, but probably not until some other fat lady sings!

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