amywink March 30th, 2017


May 17, 2004

On Good Friday,
I kneel in the dim
antique store light
reading the titles
0n a bookshelf tucked
beneath shadows, searching
the scuff-edged spines,
hoping for undiscovered treasure.

This day, I find Jane Eyre,
Soft and battered leather,
with bible paper leaves,
And a tender message
Maidie Spencer,
From Mama
Christmas 1920

in a left-hand tilted script.

I covet.

At home, I unwrap the
swaddled volume,
packaged like a breakable.
opening the covers to absorb
my small extravagance.

In this new light, beneath
the ink inscription, a pale
and broken-pencil line reveals
This is the last book Maidie read.

In the daze of revelation
now ascending, I comprehend
anew this gift of providence,
this perfect Easter token,
a holy spirit rising,
the final offering for a
remembered life.


After writing this poem in 2004, I recently revisited it after looking at my book collection again and my cousin tracked down this information:

Maidie Spencer’s grave.

Maidie Spencer’s death certificate:


One Response to “Resurrection”

  1. Brendaon 30 Mar 2017 at 6:05 pm

    I think your mom was working with us today!

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