Friday, April 02, 2010

Unction

I.
The sun burns a hole
through blue sky,
waves churn grey-cold, a wintry coffin.

By the time we gather one mile
past the ramp, the sky mirrors
sky. Mother sighs.

Time.

II.
We clutch handfuls of you
not fine as dust but
chunks, stubborn bone
like you, refusing to burn to essence.

III.
The wind lifts you,
sifts you fine between our fingers;
you want to leave.

With hands lent-like
we walk our paths,
children and grandchildren,
protecting our hearts,
full of you.

The wind shifts, you
loosen between fingers,
waft to the dunes,
contrary as always.

The grey sea swallows you.

IV.
Salt spray on our cheeks,
hearts to burst, we scatter
you, a final wish.
But you sneak behind
a rogue gentle wave,
covering shoes and pant hems.

You always hated when we cried.

V.
We leave milepost 33.
The sun burns holes again.
The light pains us.

VI.
I’m not sure why I favor
forgotten detritus from
God’s great tumbler: the cracked
scallop, the lusterless
oyster, the conch which
sounds a half-sea.

Perhaps because without you
I am broken upon a foreign shore.


***

Prompt: water

I imagined scattering my father's ashes in The Blues Are Running. This is how it really happened...

Peace, Linda

10 comments:

  1. Blown away by the rich, rolling lyrics here. A song sung in my brain to your music. Wow.

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  2. I agree with Carrie that this was a lyrical poem.

    The imagery is so vivid. I could see what was happening so clearly.

    Jai

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  3. Your gift for putting emotion into words is astounding.

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  4. that was nice and finely formed

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  5. This part could almost stand on it's own:

    Salt spray on our cheeks,
    hearts to burst, we scatter
    you, a final wish.
    But you sneak behind
    a rogue gentle wave,
    covering shoes and pant hems.

    You always hated when we cried.


    Strong stuff, que Linda. And glad to see the old blog site design back. The brainwave was cool, but this is more comfortable.

    --John

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  6. Thoughtful and full of thoughts. Even in the choice of title, Linda. Nice, very nice. Thanks for sharing this.

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  7. Thank you all for reading this poem. It spun out of me while walking the beach, thinking of my father, pondering the prompt. It has a lot more work to go, but I am really very pleased with this first draft. It honors my father and holds fast the memory of putting him to rest. Peace...

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  8. The images were powerful, the words lulling, and the emotion heartbreaking. Just wow, Linda.

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  9. Thank you Jodi. I am rather fond of this one as well. maybe it's because it's all so close...

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