Reading "My Mother Dwindles, from The Door" The poem begins with the poet relating their

elderly mothers h declines. Others around the poets mother discuss how awful s she slips away. Each day her condition becomes worse and it ing away from reality. In the end the only thing the poet can Im here. descent as her healt it is to watch her a seems she is drift do is say, Im here,

Starting this poem one can feel the overwhelming feeling of dread over taking th e poet. The worst is going to happen, but slowly. This is the cruelty of growing old; the slow ease into death. The poet is unable to do anything else for the ir mother. They cannot tell them to let go or to say goodbye because she is not done yet. The only thing a loved one can do at this point is be there for the indivi dual. Frozen in the poem is the mix of feelings one feels when the other shoe is still deciding on a flight plan. It is that exception in time between waiting and grieving. This exemplifies restless anxiety of every child as they toward a n unclear future. The poet describes their mothers decline to a derelict boat f loating freely from shore. It is not that no one crews the ship just that no ones steering. Each line of the poem slowly drifts the reader away with the mother farther and farther from shore. Each word is seawater filling your lungs as you claw at the waves trying to overtake you. Then the tide breaks, we reach land grasping for breath: muffle border and walkway, slurring her edges. Her old order of words collapses i n on itself. Today, after weeks of silence, she made a sentence: I dont think so. Here we are allowed that moment of knowing that passes between two individuals. This is the sort of moment where people understand and connect with each other p erfectly without more than a few words and tightening our grip around their hand . Im here, Im here. This poem touched me deeply. I can remember a time when I watched my grandmother slip slowly away. One day she is talking like normal, the next she is quiet, an d the next she refuses to acknowledge she knows anyone. That gentle drifting of life is caught so wholly in the imagery of the derelict boat. When I read this poem I can smell the surgically clean sheets, hear respirator humming, and see the confused look on the face of the women who was a second mother to me. That t o me is what poetry is aboutnot the correct rhyme scheme or lofty enough words bu t that moment when you can connect with a poem as completely as I did with this one. "My Mother Dwindles" is an incredible example of poetry for its ability t o tap into and share the human experience. I personally found this meaningful af ter experiencing a similar circumstance. In conclusion it is not always what is said but how the listener projects it onto their life, which in this case was me aningful making this a great poem.