For Judy
a person held in a beam of light
holding space on the dark stage
for those who later
spoke the lines or sang the aria,
a title more meaningful since your death,
friends telling how your face lit up
when greeting a friend
talking of opera, theater, feeding the birds,
your love of adventures on your own
and the pastor added you were not afraid
of dying, curious to find out
what was on the other side
of the dark, eager in fact,
the image of you as light-walker
making us smile,
memories of you, lighting the room.
Kathleen Phillips lives in Milwaukee. Now 85, she finds writing to be her lifeline during this time of quarantine and isolation. There is plenty to write about. The challenge is knowing where to look. Kathleen belongs of WFOP and two critique groups: Hartford Ave Poets and Sparks.
Portage Magazine 