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  • My Mother's Yarzheit
  • Lee Gould (bio)

I love her yet.    Each layer veils anotherof pure dog-eaten lace.

Her mottled chest    slopes like mineto small breasts, nipplesdark as mahogany

through a frayed gown.    Here she isshe who disappearedyears ago, though

to tell the truth, I felt her    in my breathand everywhere as cloudsover my ghost-crowded bed rains. [End Page 73]

I pretended all was well,    convinced myselfbut now I'm securedby twine of my own spinning.

Her voice returns    pricks my veins,enters. She's dancingon the front stoop

away from the dogs    that nip her tiny ankles.Lift me, she calls,in your tall arms,

so I can blow kisses in your ear [End Page 74]

Lee Gould

First girl called to the bima in her Baltimore synagogue—a joyful, independent pattern set. Study in an egalitarian chavurah, consciousness raising, arguing with the text, outrage ... all shape her life's work: teaching, writing, parenting. Lee's poems and reviews have appeared in Quarterly West, the Gay & Lesbian Review, Phoebe, Berkshire Review, Magma, Chronogram, Passager, Women & Environments, and others. Her chapbook, Weeds, was published by Finishing Line Press.



Additional Information

Print ISSN
pp. 73-74
Launched on MUSE
Open Access
Archive Status
Archived 2012
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