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Click herebruises Mother's face,
buckles her spine.
She went from old to ancient
at the moment of my father's death
and lives now buried
in the shallow grave
of that withering emotion.
The remaining hollowed husk
I cannot quicken, even
with all my rain of thoughtless love.
if i didn't know you'd written it, i would have placed gm as its author! so, yeah, i really rate this sensitively woven write with its deceptively simple language. what you have achieved here, imo, is do that thing i so admire: you make it about the images, the sensations, emotions by choosing words that somehow manage to become invisible (or virtually so) - in other words, what i'm 'reading' is a montage of images suffused with patterns of emotion and sensation.
yeah, i'll shut up now. this is good.
Well crafted as always, Tzara.
"and lives now buried //in the shallow grave //of that withering emotion" is very powerful. Poems about personal loss, I think, are difficult because of the risk of melodrama. Initially, the last line felt that way to me, particulary with "love" as the final word, but the poem was good enough that I read it again. The interplay of "husk, quicken, rain, and thoughtless" gave "love" a more tangible and dynamic meaning rather than some melancholic abstraction.
you just keep getting better Tzara. Mentioned, of course, on the new poems thread.
~ maria
Just Carrie said, Tzara, be there for your Mom, that's all you can do really. I'm learning the same with my own Mother, my step Dad having passed recently.
Keep filling that husk with your rain. Even the bottomless has a bottom. Lovely work T-zed, thank you.