Two poems by Cora McCann Liderbach


The Time Seemed Green for Going

[A cento]


Footsteps hurry toward beginning.

The hidden dove’s troubled voice –


beggar, thief, boatman, mist. The tide

rising early, moon taken hostage. I sit


on the rough stoop by the sea grass,

wind in the trees, mother crying


on the stairs. A last look over

the shoulder before leaving. Father


tramples the dew, rows toward what

he can’t see. Night is a river,


the missing pages of the sea, a country

lost. How slow morning comes.


Each of us joins its ongoing story,

falling toward our beginningless past –


stars we haven’t heard from yet.

A lasting echo of heart calling home.



Source: Li-Young Lee, Book of My Nights, “Hurry Toward Beginning”, “From Another Room”, “My Father’s House”, “Degrees of Blue”, “The Moon from Any Window”, “Little Round”, “Pillow”, “Black Petal”, “The Sleepless”, “Our River Now”, “The Hammock”, “Echo and Shadow”, “The Well”





Pilgrim Soul