It is best walked alone, this sorrowed path
when gray has settled like lichen foam
brewing in Universe that does not recognize
a small broken heart
a forest of weighed-down evergreen branches,
slumps into skirts that hide the underbelly
where might be a small curled matter of mutter
about such intrusion as my heavy feet
purity’s silent shroud is broken by hard step
on branch that cracks in brittle pieces
eyes drawn up in fear and startle
see a knotty nest where Squirrel,
from her season’s slumber
pushes out her heavy lower jaw
and berates me for my noise
in birthing season
spring was long come in breathed warmth
to turn my lighter step to less tromp
of that same journey, taken when death
refused to surrender its cold grip
in that same place
that haunted me through hard winter,
was an excursion of smallest furry things
led by fresh womb and glutted breasts
who promptly perched and whispered
a chicory call to run for shelter
just below the tested trunk of tree
was a dark and mottled thing
she had cast out to save the rest
I took it to a small mound
that had no huge cross
or conspicuously tall monument,
but held the heart I thought
I could not bear to live without
and buried it there for earth to hold
in doing so I let my daughter go,
like handful of seeds, I scattered,
and hurried back to shake off yesterdays
in order to start my Easter feast
for the one's left behind
Author notes
3. Both 1 & 2 (the prompt itself)
In a list
A contest entry
- Solitude by second-born.
500 points, ended December 4, 2007, 8 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Vivid in both its impact and atmosphere. I clearly hear these thoughts as they occur. The hush of heart that holds something it can not share. But with nature, we are all bare and welcome to kneel upon the holy ground to bury each sorrow; big and small. Blue
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ty so much pen friend...I really appreciate your comments...the let me know how a reader might interpret my poem.
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“purity’s silent shroud is broken by hard step
on branch that cracks in brittle pieces…” this is a very lovely couplet that captured the essence of your piece… the rest of the piece is wonderful and the emotions is truly heartfelt…if this is a personal poem, glad to know that you ‘shake off yesterdays’ to start your ‘Easter feast’…thank you for sharing a fantastic write!
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oh yes, always...my poetry is pieces of my soul.
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I agree with what Tam said about being awed for being there on holy ground. You really brought this poem to life through the imagery and flow which made me feel like I was right there too. I thank you for sharing this with me and I wish you the best in the contest...
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ty, darryl... it matters.
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oh...my...goodness...
I don't have the words...
I feel as if I have stumbled onto a sacred piece of earth...far to holy for my feeble presence...
wow...I can even hear silence that was not present before I clicked this poem...
stunning and stellar are words so far beneath this write...
I shall simply leave quietly...with respect...
but know that pieces of this poem are now embedded into my grateful heart...and will remain forever...
I am amazed by you...
Blessings! Tammy
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and ty for such a dear and comforting comment.
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