Friday, January 8, 2010

Maja Trochimczyk


In memoriam for Barbara Koziel Gawronski
(December 8, 1947- November 23, 2009)

The collage she gave me
still waits to be signed – three stripes

of Polish fields, ready for harvest,
receding into distance,
a round mirror reflecting the past.

We shared the abundance of fruit
under the mellow sun
of All Saints’ Day in a Buddhist orchard.

I’ll keep her smile in the taste
of the peach, beneath the velvet skin,
dripping with juice of overripe sweetness.

She had no right to bail out
after two weeks of playing phone tag,
cancelling concerts, outings.

“Oh, you're not home,
I’ll call you later,” she said on Sunday,
her white hair a moonlit cloud.

Thank you, God, for the icy light
of the half-moon cutting the sky
with its sharp rays the night Basia died.

Thank you for the most amazing
clarity of mountain air after rain.


  1. Having just come from a funeral this poem sings to me. Thanking God for the earthly reminders that reflect her touches my heart too. The ending line is powerfully bright and illuminating like an angel filling the sky.


  2. from Phil Turner:

    That's a solid poem. It almost makes me wish I had died so that someone might have written such a poem about me! The last stanza is the best. The tone is religious, but abstractly so, since it relies on very concrete feeling through natural experience, which then become emotive. It's solid work, to say the least!