My Mother's Penmanship Lessons
In her last notes, when her hand began
to tremble, my mother tried to teach it
the penmanship she was known for,
how to make the slanted stems
of the p's and d's, the descending
roundness of the capital m's, the long
loops of the f's crossed at the center,
sending it back again and again
until each message was the same:
a record of her insistence that the hand
return her to the way she was before,
and of all the ways the hand had disobeyed.
to tremble, my mother tried to teach it
the penmanship she was known for,
how to make the slanted stems
of the p's and d's, the descending
roundness of the capital m's, the long
loops of the f's crossed at the center,
sending it back again and again
until each message was the same:
a record of her insistence that the hand
return her to the way she was before,
and of all the ways the hand had disobeyed.
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Disclaimer
We do not accept unsolicited submissions. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2016 by Wesley McNair, “My Mother's Penmanship Lessons,” from The Unfastening, (David R. Godine, 2017). Poem reprinted by permission of Wesley McNair and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2024 by The Poetry Foundation.