- Lyde Longaker
“Mote”
A poem by Lyde Longaker.
I was,
when I knew
I was a mote,
an aimless speck swirling,
between shadows
made by slatted blinds,
so fast I did not know
dark or light
I never saw myself
I only felt the spin
I asked why?
a cord pulled
tempo slowed to 3/4 time
spaces between the slats
raptured me in light.
seen by shining motes
I did not hide
I enjoined the waltz
I am
a speck of gold
reflecting the wonder of God
Lyde Longaker writes to live. She was born at home in Edgeworth, marauded Sewickley's Isaly’s ice cream parlor, was held captive in boarding school, and set free by Carnegie Tech (now Mellon). She now lives in Ashland, VA. She raised kids, stayed sane in theatre design, taught art, made pots, and now, thanks to The Pittsburgher, at age 89 she is a published poet.