07 February 2009

Shirley Ross

February 7, 1929 – April 21, 1995

Thinking of my amazing mom on what would've been her 80th birthday.

Razovsky runs through Radom
(a town in Poland),
through Minsk (in Russia),
through circuses and cemeteries,
past a streetcar stop
where among the crowd
is the woman he'll marry,
though he doesn't yet know her.
She chases him two blocks
till she grabs his coat
and spins him around.

— from "Razovsky on Foot"


At February 07, 2009 2:04 am , Blogger Evie Christie said...

beautiful (photo and poem)

At February 08, 2009 12:06 pm , Blogger gary barwin said...

Reading your Razovsky poems, I always think of Razovsky running through Poland and with the young woman who will become Mrs. Razovsky and then somehow stumbling into a reading in Toronto where the new/old/young/child Razovsky is reading a poem about exactly what is happening right then. It's some kind of Razovsky General Theory of Relativity. Or Radomsktivity. The Razovskys meet again in their own universe, loving, and proud of each other.

A lovely poem, picture, post.

Thanks for posting.


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