Friday, July 18, 2008

of a god and love
for Paul
July 9th, 2008

they cradled you into the car
wrapped in a white flannel blanket
a few last sprigs of red
hair feathered upward

before you left home
pale kisses
from your brother
missed your cheek

I left out my goodbye
crawled onto the rear seat
my books sliding to the floor
you shuddered, Mother shouted

rain, the bees coming in
could kill you
in arms that couldn’t clutch
you tight enough

I thought you were arguing
yourself alive
for just those moments
while I left you

the last things I remember:
your thin arms
reaching for me
and one long sound
a moan rising

was it me
watching from the sidewalk
as Father drove
you on?

alone, in your cortege
I remember
what we sang:

I’ll always love you

but enough of love now



Anonymous said...

Another absolutely beautiful poem. It brought tears to my eyes. I really shouldn't even mention form on one as beautiful as this, but I can't help myself (I'm a geek). The form is also exquisite. I love the structure of your line breaths. It's tight but not overly so.

So much here to love. I think the sprigs of red hair is really what gets me deep in the gut. I can see his sweetness so vividly. Beautiful work.

hesperia said...

I'm not sure when you left this comment Julie. I don't check in here as often as I should.

I'm pleased that you liked this poem. And pleased even more with your comment on structure. It's one of the things I truly love about your poetry and I'm a geek too. I sweat over structure more than word choice. Breath is SO important to me. I'm glad it works for you.

A special poem for me. It was written for the fortieth anniversary of the death of my little brother when he was six-years old and I was sixteen. He was and is very precious to me. He was "my baby". His death was cruel and I don't believe anyone in my family ever "got over it", whatever that means. I've never been able to write a poem for him, till this year, that day. He really did have "sprigs" of red hair, after chemotherapy. I'm glad you can "see" him. So glad.

Ciao baby!