A Poem for National Poetry Month

I shared this poem on Facebook years ago in memory of my close friend’s father dying. I decided to share it here. Enjoy.

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“Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide!

There are a hundred places where I fear
To go,–so with his memory they brim!
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, ‘There is no memory of him here!’
And so stand stricken, so remembering him!”
Edna St. Vincent Millay

 

Poem for The Sunday Whirl

It’s been awhile since I have written in my blog.  Mostly due to doing everything from my cellphone instead of my laptop. Here is my take for the The Sunday Whirl. Maybe this will be the week to pick back up on my writing.

 

 

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Losing you is still too fresh

to work through all my grief.

My eyes sting with tears

I cannot shed, shock I suppose.

Trying to gather my thoughts

so I can remember your smile

long after mine has faded away.

It’s almost like betrayal

to live my life in peace.

The autumn chill is setting in.

Wish I could fly South for winter

and never look back on Spring.

Train whistle blows in the distance.

I touch up my make-up for no one.

Beside a tree trunk, I pause,

waiting for my mind to remember

how to inhale and exhale.

Breathing has become tricky

these days with you gone.

 

 

@Donetta Sifford 9-2-2018