To make her into ashes
costs nothing.
But,
small white caskets with no frills
and bleached-out stone-
more than I have.
So Ava is kept on a high shelf
until Spring thaw,
until
barely
the flowers become her.
A contest entry
- white by Cat.
2200 points, ended December 9, 2008, 23 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 16 of 16
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The hyphenated line brings the reader into an imagined conversation with the writer. There is a sense of place and one may strongly picture a room, a high shelf, an urn, someone reaching up, etc. The mind fills in the blanks - predisposed by a dropped verb and a hyphen. Another focal point of the poem is the word "barely" - it gives a sense of time and that life holds on from one generation to the the next - a fragile chain - always enough to get us from December to January.
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Beautiful...
congratulations.
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I've missed your musing here at AP dear friend. The tenderness scribe here makes me sig. I recently lost my doggie. She was eleven years old. The Vet gave us "small white caskets with no frills". We buried her in my Mom's backyard with the rest of our dogs who have passed on. I am reminded, and miss her sorely.
Birds are my favorite of God's creatures. I have hesitated in getting a winged sweetheart because I know they die too.
I am out of words except to say, I feel what you've written. I wish you well in this contest. Good to read your works again.
Much Love Always ♥
Renee
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obviously i am one of your biggest fans..
you have this way of making me see things in soft light- when i am so used to seeing them
boldly
and this poem is no exception- in fact it is the rule- wonderful imagery, wonderful tone.. heartbreakingly wonderful
m
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I try to bring out the bold every so often, but for some reason these other tones seem to outweigh them. To say the least, I am always so appreciative to have your poetry to go to in order to bring out that kind of bold/ crispness that often escapes me.
Thanks so much for the compliment.
Kim
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Beautiful, moving and meaningful poetry - so good to read your magic again, Kimmie!
~ Nicolette
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Thanks so much Nicolette.
I'm so glad you could come by to read my words.
I hope all is well with you... so nice to see you / read you as well.
Kim
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within all of this i sit in unfairness...
that not spoken wanting the best and yet cant afford it-
and i sit and think... this free option is better after all... she is kept close and in time-- the time needed as well to release
new buds will blossom and maybe the face of a pansy will show her smile once again
this was absolutely beautiful
Thank you for this fantastic entry in our contest.
there is nothing to this that i can even think to critique.
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Thanks so much for the kind words on this one. I'm still not sure if I'll come back to it after the contest and give it a little more filler - but sometimes I guess we need to walk away from our thoughts to do them justice on later days when we're thinking more clearly.
Regardless... thanks so much again for the positive critique.
Kim
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this is so gentle, and yet at the same time so heavy with feeling...when I was little my parents kept budgies...over time they would either become sick, or just die of old age. Mum buried all of them under the bleeding heart shrub...it's the healthiest shrub in her backyard. I'm glad to see you're writing again
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this is a tender, loving and hearfelt piece.
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Thanks so much again. Really.
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One sees hands reaching and eyes not quite clear, and a walk with hunched shoulders...and spring thaw is only for the ground to soften...beautiful poetry here... PK
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Thanks so much PK. Glad you could stop by ... as for the "hunched shoulders" - right on the mark.
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We have a parrot sanctuary and in the course of years we've lost a few. I can not bear to bury a bird and place it like the native americans back into nature.Usually high in a tree with its wings spread wide.
I can surely identify with this.
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Thanks so much for the words to have me feel as though the piece is a bit more grounded than I perceived as the writer.
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