The Dead Speak
Families gather
under sheltering sky,
mourning their dead,
who passed
out and under too soon
toasting memory
with fried chicken and soda,
the heralds of summer..
We too
gather our baskets
and blankets,
a bottle of lemonade
and one of sweet tea
amid black breads
and stinky cheeses,
head for the beach,
climb rocks until our toes
find crabs scuttling
in angry protest
their fiefdoms
interrupted.
in angry protest
their fiefdoms
interrupted.
I have trouble mourning your dead
I have my own,
refugees in unmarked graves.
I run from them
from the bombs and the smell of the dead,
their Slavic syllables
of death, a scree in the wind.
their Slavic syllables
of death, a scree in the wind.
Our blood drenches, like yours,
only the land is different
This is a profoundly thoughtful poem, Audrey. I am most struck by "I have trouble mourning your dead. I have my own." The death tolls mount week by week, no end in sight. The world is in a sad plight.
ReplyDeleteI have trouble mourning your dead
ReplyDeleteI have my own,
refugees in unmarked graves.
Such depth and power in your verse..!
I so understand.. there are other graves to mourn, and there are other ways... maybe we should all remember these days of the ones that made our lives what it is.
ReplyDeleteSo very thoughtful....and wow these words were powerful:
ReplyDelete'I have trouble mourning your dead
I have my own,
refugees in unmarked graves.
I run from them
from the bombs and the smell of the dead,'
Every culture and country has such sorrow...we are all alike in this...so sad.
There is commonality even in the differences. A discerning and heartfelt piece, Audrey.
ReplyDeleteThere are so many dead to mourn. Sometimes it is hard to know what is the difference "your dead" and "ours." Sadly ALL blood drenches.
ReplyDeleteThere is so much to grieve in this world. Your poem brings that to light so vividly. Good writing Audrey.
ReplyDeleteHow very noble to remember too there are the unfortunates who struggle to survive. Sadly though while we struggle to rake a living they struggle to survive the bombings. How cruel the strong is against the weak! Very true Audrey!
ReplyDeleteHank
Powerful and poignant - it tugs at that universal chord of grief shared by all humankind. One of the few commonalities left to us, it seems, in these mean and troubled times. Beautiful writing, Audrey.
ReplyDeleteAgreeing with everyone this is a very powerful and well crafted poem.
ReplyDelete"Our blood drenches, like yours," there's so much truth and helplessness in the line...a heartfelt and poignant write Audrey...
ReplyDeleteWe understand others grief but it is our history and our people we mourn. We are who they were and our sadness is our own. However in mourning and remembering we are keeping our families alive. This is a most moving and powerful poem.
ReplyDelete'Toasting memory with fried chicken and soda' - somehow speaks volumes and enhances the message.. every death should be remembered..most importantly every life should too although it seems some in this world are seen as disposable..
ReplyDeleteThis is as powerful as anything you've written. It hits you right between the eyes but does not allow you to fall. Just excellent.
ReplyDeleteYes, as others have said, very powerful, thoughtful and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteAwesome and most powerful poetry Audrey.
ReplyDeletePowerful. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
So strong Wendy, brilliant last three lines...
ReplyDeleteI am held in your piece, a moment frozen in time....
ReplyDeleteThe 3rd stanza digs at my soul... I completely understand the feeling.
ReplyDeleteyour poem reminds me of how different cultures remember their dead.
ReplyDeleteabsolutely rivetting poem. i loved the last stanza. it sort of sums up the whole poem. :)
All lives are precious. I think mourning is really a difficult thing to do. Powerful stuff, Audrey
ReplyDeleteI agree that this is a thought-provoking, powerful, and relatable poem. I keep rereading "I have trouble mourning your dead…" - so honest and true.
ReplyDelete