Strange sun
chases February into hiding for a day,
while the Atlantic surges and growls
at my elbow.
A forgotten dirt road slurps down off of Main Street,
to an iron gate where black paint
long ago succumbed to the rule of eternal rust.
Winding through tiers of nameless headstones
a meandering downhill walk
to the shore.
Stretched along water's edge lays a pale matted raft,
the straw bones of last season's marsh grass,
woven tightly as though to contain
the restless swell of Little Harbor.
And across that liquid horizon of viridian green,
dark Cedars rise from distant outposts,
weatherbeaten sentinels
borne steadfast on ships of granite,
keeping solemn watch over the dead.
I search out the spot
where I last saw Joe,
his memory lowered forever
into that wintry hillside.
And in his wake, I discover June,
a scar of fresh earth
turned too recently for grass to heal.
Author notes
With my condolances to Michele and Jackie.
A contest entry
- picture inspired by Cat.
4500 points, ended May 22, 12 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
...
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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My favorite parts are that 'scar' and "the rule of eternal rust"
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aye, 'tis a good one, this. When I read something like this which I wish I had written myself, I often feel compelled to make the revisions that come to mind. And so I do:
Stretched along water's edge lies a pale matted raft,
across that liquid horizon - viridian
I'd chop the last stanza off completely and end it thus:
And in his wake, I discover his June
a scar of fresh earth
turned too recently for grass to heal.
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congratulations!
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Everything mary said...
Brilliant and more than deserving of a win.
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A poignant, potent & pure penning, Poet. Melancholic with a dose of reality setting in. Very contemplative. Indeed, condolences to all who have been set adrift on this terrible tide. Sorrow ebbs & flows, I have found. Occasionally, we do remember what we thought we had forgotten...& the love comes surging through the pain once more. Good luck in Mary's contest.
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this reads so easily as to almost think it was easy to write.. until you stop shaking your head in admiration for its simplicity and realize
the complex nature of both the write and the observation-- especially complex; the observational quality of the aside
and the beauty of the language
the depth of skill to make something read this well... wow..
wonderful write.
just wonderful
m
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top notch
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I enjoy your skill with description immensely, especially of Little Harbor with it's liquid horizonof viridian green. It's one of the wonders of poetry, the living aura of words that bring images into one's vision. I felt the purpose of the journey, and the perpetuation, then the poignancy of cessation where memory is all that remains to move the heart beyond breath.
The feel of love is strong ....
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Alot of lines I really liked in this, especially;
"turned too recently for grass to heal". Perfectly
descriptive. Great take on the prompt.
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