When I was ten I wanted to be an archaeologist….
I’m not sure how I first ran across Terri Gadal’s poetry. As a woman “of a certain age”, I immediately recognized in her a kindred spirit – one brave enough to write about issues of aging. It’s rare to find a writer willing to explore the dark corners where fear of memory loss and independence dwell – themes Terri faces head on.
In a way, the honesty of Terri’s poetry reminds me of Sylvia Plath, although her dark corners were another story, indeed.
When I wrote Terri, asking for permission to post the poem below, she told me that her writing started many years ago, as journals. However, with the advent of digital publishing she is now able to offer her work to the world. As she wrote, “This digital age is something I could have never imagined in my wildest dreams.”
Words fail me
in needed moments
are the feelings
that come and go
in flashes of time
with each trick
of the mind…
I stare out
from my void
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