<\/p>\n

Nancy Seidman was not published in her lifetime.\u00a0 But her talent, long recognized by family and friends, moved them to publish a collection of her work in 1987, five years after her death.\u00a0 Nancy often visited Gloucester to see her daughter, Kate Seidman, her son-in-law,\u00a0 Mitch Cohen, and her grandchildren.\u00a0 Mitch, a native of Gloucester, read several of her poems at the Gloucester Reads Poetry event at Sawyer Free Library in the fall of 2008.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

News of Me – 7\/2\/79<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I’m here in Gloucester, near the beach.<\/p>\n

My grandson finished breakfast,<\/p>\n

Danced his dance,<\/p>\n

And is sleeping now.<\/p>\n

My daughter is working at her craft,<\/p>\n

Preparing pots and tiles for showing<\/p>\n

Sunday at her new gallery.<\/p>\n

We could be comfortable, easy with each other,<\/p>\n

She, busy, in motion constantly,<\/p>\n

Has energy enough to move the tides.<\/p>\n

And I, slowed down and resting outside,<\/p>\n

Am watching waves form and break<\/p>\n

And roll to shore,<\/p>\n

And listening to the calm rhythm of the surf,<\/p>\n

And looking at families clustered on the sand.<\/p>\n

My daughter and I cold be content here –<\/p>\n

Talking, laughing, touching, from time to time –<\/p>\n

But we are not.<\/p>\n

Something happened to our visit.<\/p>\n

We have grown in different ways.<\/p>\n

She into her new and chosen place of union<\/p>\n

Where she is loved and loves, where she is happy.<\/p>\n

And I into the single life I share with friends<\/p>\n

Where I am known, where I am happy.<\/p>\n

I will go home soon and when I leave, I will leave<\/p>\n

Knowing that the distance we feel now is not forever,<\/p>\n

Knowing that we care deeply for each other,<\/p>\n

And the time will come when<\/p>\n

My daughter and I can share a common language.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Jack and Jill Story – Reconsidered<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I don’t know why they went up there,<\/p>\n

But I don’t, for a minute, believe it was for water.<\/p>\n

I also don’t believe Jack fell down the hill.<\/p>\n

I think Jill pushed him down and then,<\/p>\n

Ninny that she was, she thought<\/p>\n

The least that she could do was tumble after.<\/p>\n

Never underestimate the power of guilt.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My People – Yes<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My father’s father was a Homburg hat and<\/p>\n

silver handled cane.<\/p>\n

My father’s mother was an heirloom samovar.<\/p>\n

My mother’s father was a simple plough and a great<\/p>\n

handful of grain.<\/p>\n

My mother’s mother was a strong and luminous star.<\/p>\n

My father was a Russian-Jewish black bread and a<\/p>\n

magnum of champagne.<\/p>\n

My mother was a lilac tree in blossom and a Bach<\/p>\n

played on a guitar.<\/p>\n

My sister is an apple pie that’s in the oven rising.<\/p>\n

And I can’t tell you who I am – I’m<\/p>\n

metamorphosizing.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Nancy Seidman was not published in her lifetime.\u00a0 But her talent, long recognized by family and friends, moved them to publish a collection of her work in 1987, five years after her death.\u00a0 Nancy often visited Gloucester to see … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-107","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\n