My Father’s Hand
by Judith Lee Herbert
I
I look up to see my father,
towering above me.
He takes my hand, and as we go
through the turnstile, I am excited
by my first ride with him on the subway. […]
Honeymoon
by Judith Lee Herbert
At sunset in Bellagio, we sit at the table
by the window, looking out
at mountains studded by shimmering lights.
We eat our four-course Italian meal
smiling at one another, drink red wine,
me, svelte in my turquoise and black dress
with the yellow sash, you handsome
with your dark hair and beard.
Nightfall, we stand on the balcony
holding hands. Under the amber moon,
echo of dogs faint in the distance.
Before dawn we are awakened by
roosters crowing.
We drive through the Alps
high above the earth
surrounded by clouds.
At the Jungfrau, the timelessness of glaciers:
frozen snow, brilliant sun,
our fates a silvery-white light.
Judith Lee Herbert has returned to poetry after a successful career in another field. She graduated Cum Laude in English Literature from Columbia University. She has a daughter who is a sophomore in college, and she lives in New York City, with her husband, who writes plays. She had her daughter while in her 40s.
A Mother’s Musings – Snowfall
by Judith Lee Herbert
I
Clouds surround us in the mountains
of Estes Park, in August.
I am elated, driving through the blizzard,
Dana, at ten, in the back seat,
Allan at my side.
We follow the dim red glow of tail lights
slowly, through fog’s fluffy whiteness.
Descending mountain curves,
I am soaring through silvery light.
II
Last night I dreamed that
my mother drove through a snowstorm
to visit me.
I opened the car door.
Cold frosty snow covered
her clothes, face, lashes.
She’d forgotten to close the windows.
Occasionally a glimpse of her
through snowflakes.
Who she once was, covered by
a layer of frozenness,
a blanket of whiteness.
Judith Lee Herbert has returned to poetry after a successful career in another field. She graduated Cum Laude in English Literature from Columbia University. She has a daughter who is a sophomore in college, and she lives in New York City, with her husband, who writes plays. She had her daughter while in her 40s.
A Mother’s Musings – Cannoli
Judith Lee Herbert
I
“Cannoli,” you say,
your first word this morning,
sweet remembrance of yesterday’s taste
of creamy pastry, still on your tongue.
I laugh, delighted
by your bright smile,
warm honey-colored hair,
sturdy little legs.
You are two, and
I sing to you
in the mornings,
strangely happy to greet the day
even before coffee. […]
A Mother’s Musings – North Star
by Judith Lee Herbert
Cobalt blue enamel sky,
diamond studded crescent moon adorn
the gold locket of my charm bracelet.
Gift from my parents when I was young,
it holds the image of my mother
as she journeys to a place
without words or memory.
Dana, my one and only Baby Buddha,
told me when she was three,
“Someday, I won’t need you anymore.”
She is eighteen; it is her time
to explore the brightness of the stars
and the vastness of the universe.
As constellations move in the night sky,
My position is shifting.
I navigate my way in space,
holding on to the sacredness of love,
my own internal North Star.
Judith Lee Herbert has returned to poetry after a successful career in another field. She graduated Cum Laude in English Literature from Columbia University. She has a daughter who is a sophomore in college, and she lives in New York City, with her husband, who writes plays. She had her daughter when she was in her 40s.
A Mother’s Musings – At Forty-Six
by Judith Lee Herbert
Devi Sri, the flying Balinese
Goddess of Fertility, with her gold crown,
deep green carved wings unfurled
and reaching upwards,
pale white arms wrapped round
orange and red baby bunting.
She is suspended serenely
like a star in the sky of my bedroom,
as I hang in the space between
forsakenness and motherhood.
I worship her, but do not offer her
jasmine, lotus and incense,
though perhaps I should.
I treasure the fortune from my fortune cookie
“Your fondest dream will come true.”
I savor my mother’s dream of me:
Wearing a red dress, walking,
holding the hand of a little girl.
And then Dana arrives.
Bursting through the gates of impossibility
whooshing through the halls of the unexpected,
from the heavens into my arms.
Judith Lee Herbert has returned to poetry after a successful career in another field. She graduated Cum Laude in English Literature from Columbia University. She has a daughter who is a sophomore in college, and she lives in New York City, with her husband, who writes plays. She had her daughter when she was in her 40s.