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

 

Knocking On My Door

Who’s that knocking at the door?
Pounding like my head from the night before.
I’d decided to drown my memories with Patron.
I’m a bitter soul since left alone.
Tequila shots with no salt or lime.
Bartender kept pouring until closing time.
Guess my car knew it’s way home.
Woke up hungover and on my own.
Now it’s too early for company.
Casual chatter is an impossibility.
Who’s that knocking at the door?
Why should I be burdened with more.
Aquaintances always needy, too demanding.
Frankly I don’t feel like I should be standing.
I’ll crawl to the kitchen for a hangover cure.
Bloody Mary on ice, perhaps three or four.
This is the wreck she left me in.
Feel lower than I’ve ever been.
Who’s that knocking at the door.
Who I was doesn’t live here anymore.
Thought the whole town knew that already.

This is a poetry prompt for Yeah Write. While I usually don’t write rhyming poetry, the mood for the prompt question insisted on rhyming schemes in my mind. Enjoy.

Donetta