For the Sake of the Poem
homage to Linda Paston
I visit my mother’s childhood
She was 11 when he died
one of five children crying
for their father
one of five siblings left
with a grieving mother.
They never spoke
of how their father died.
For the sake of the poem
I search the county records.
He died long before I was born.
A woman helps me find the obituary
she reads it
and makes a copy.
Did you know this she asks
Did you know how he died?
For the sake of the poem
I sit at a wood table
and read the story of his death.
The details are all here,
everyone in his rural community
would have known,
he took his own life
his son found him in the barn.
For the sake of the poem
I travel to the country cemetery,
kneel to plant flowers at his grave.
Digging deep into the soil
of family secrets
I write this poem
for the sake
of my mother.
—Janet Leahy, New Berlin, WI
