by Shirley Kaufman

This is a poem redolent with truth. I like its quiet matter of factness, which at the conclusion suddenly soars.

I wish I'd written it!

As an aspiring poet (although probably considerably older than Ms. Kaufman), I was speared by the poignancy of this poem, though something about it suggests to me that it isn't quite a poem, but rather prose as lyrical and succinct as poetry. No disrespect intended!

6:37 p.m.

Shirley, I am about to start dinner for me and my husband, with the children and grandchildren out of the country. Our first Christmas alone. "You might even enjoy what’s left of your life in a state of amazement." Loved every letter, comma, and quotation mark in your brilliant poem. Keep the pen moving.

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