It hurts to brush her hair
anymore.
Mirrors are anathema
to black tangles
that choose where they
lie or fly,
with an occasional recommendation
from an uninspired
hand,
and eyes,
flat, unblinking,
fix on what has left,
negative space,
see invisible shadows,
life stains,
in vague and familiar places -
kitchen chair
razor on the sink
unmade bed -
that hold her gaze,
seconds, minutes, hours.
Nothing changes.
The fragrant, earthy garden
of her tended soil
in the long yesterday
will not bloom today.
She pushes a strand of hair aside.
Perhaps tomorrow
she'll empty his drawers
and closet.
©Eusebeia Philos 2013
Posted for dVerse Poet Pub ~ Poetics: Dominant Impression in Artistic Description
Hosted by Kelvin S.M.
a hard step letting go...cleaning out those constant reminders of those that are beyond us...you bring life to her grief though...i hope that tomorrow comes for her...
ReplyDeleteI hope she makes it, too, Brian.
Delete...ah, you focus on the entire appearance of the woman, the widow, in creating or rather setting your scene into such melancholy... i did use the same artwork but mine's focus on my impression of her environment to set a mood... either ways i like your take a lot... it appeals to me in a many ways... smiles... enjoyed it.. thank you...
ReplyDeleteKelvin, thank you for your artwork as prompts tonight. They inspired so much beautiful poetry.
DeleteOh, this is good....you captured so well the emotions of the widow. Hard to keep on living, hard to find meaning. Hard even to brush her hair. So sad to have to empty his closet. Well written, heart breaking.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your observations, Mary. Glad you like it.
DeleteWow, loved this. The hopelessness and loneliness is very clear in your words :)
ReplyDeleteThank you,Gretchen.
DeleteNothing changes - yet everything has changed ~ The holding of the gaze on his things for hours and the unbloomed garden....very well portrayed ~
ReplyDeleteIt is a hard thing to experience pain standing still in time. Thank you, Grace.
Deletethe addition of the garden lines describes grief to me - even nature stops - time changes at the death of a beloved - beautifully written. K
ReplyDeleteYes, grief stops even nature. Thank you.
DeleteGreat felt piece of impressionistic poetry..she must have loved a garden..:)
ReplyDeleteYes, I saw that in her, too. Thanks, Katy.
DeleteWow such power such emotion and so true. I'm not a widow but I understand the pain of loss and how yes even brushing ones hair can be too much to bear.
ReplyDeleteEven the routine becomes difficult in grief. Yes, thank you.
DeleteOh, that ending is a killer. Great poem!
ReplyDeleteI appreciate that, Laurie. Thank you.
DeleteWhat a clever and creative interpretation. Reminds me of a female version of bartleby, a short story character I remember reading once. Very excellente!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Henry.
DeleteSad crippling depression after horrible loss. So well written, it is painful to read.
ReplyDeleteYes, it is painful. Thank you, Sabio.
DeleteI have no words for such deep sadness. I would not want to intrude.
ReplyDeleteIt is solitary, isn't it? Thank you.
DeleteYou have captured deep grief so well here.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Susan.
DeleteThe fragrant, earthy garden
ReplyDeleteof her tended soil
in the long yesterday
will not bloom today.... oh heck..heavy emotions in this...you made the grief palpable
Yes, I don't want to go back to that grief too often, Claudia. Thanks
Deletepowerful evocative.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Lucy.
DeleteThis is a really powerful, emotionally demanding poem. It takes us to places where we don't want to go, although eventually we all have to.
ReplyDeleteWe do suppress the idea of our own mortality, avoiding thoughts of it. Thank you.
DeleteWow this definitely creates emotion in the reader...great poem sir!!
ReplyDeleteThanks. I'm glad you felt what I felt as I imagined her sorrow.
DeleteYou have quite captured the limbo of a loved one lost. So sad, and though time doesn't heal every wound, there is usually a peace that comes and we can finally move on. Well penned.
ReplyDeleteYes, we all yearn for that peace. If we allow it, it will come eventually. Thanks, Ginny.
DeleteLike Mary says: Oh, this is good!
ReplyDeleteChillingly good in fact.
Impressive detail.
Thank you, Aprille.
DeleteI just read this in the new Poetry Nook and was very moved by it ...
ReplyDeleteThank you, Teresa. Glad you stopped by.
Delete