I was saddened to read about Nora Ephron’s death last week. I watch Sleepless in Seattle regularly, and I love her writings. I wrote the following poem in response to an article by Nora in Vogue Magazine. The second poem is along the similar lines.
To Nora Ephron
Thanks for writing about “the D word.”
But really — in Vogue’s Age Issue?
I wanted to see what, if anything,
Vogue would have to say
to those of us in our sixties.
And there you are, exactly my age,
writing about death – your friend’s death.
But we still have to wear something
and do something with our faces maybe
and maybe our skin or our nails or our hands and feet, or . . .
We can’t just wait for the big D;
denial’s not working,
fantasy goes only so far.
Couragio! I know!
Let’s be Italian in our last years.
Eat, drink wine, sing, make art,
That’s our work –
to bring fun to our serious, hardworking children –
cookies, chocolate, flowers, music –
to remind them that life is short and wonderful.
Love and Fun
I don’t know anything
especially what I used to especially
about what people should do or
why life is the way it is or what
brings happiness except for
living in the now difficult and
trite as that is. Now is
all we have now is where
to find joy and happiness now
nobody knows, least of all me.
I saw it yesterday in a cottonwood tree heard it in a bird song. It’s
in beauty and kindness and of course love.
I’m sorry I have no answers.
The older I am the less I know.
I’m only good for love and fun.