Garden sun, last week
Poems are often a big part of special occasions and, as I am sure most of us know, they are a popular choice for weddings and funerals in particular. I had a message just last week about someone wanting to use one of my poems for their wedding and this happens quite a lot (interestingly, for someone who is not a big marriage or weddings fan, I am 'recommended poet' on a weddings website or two...). It's nice to get messages like that though - I'm all for love and if that's the way people choose to celebrate love then hooray for that and for them. Today's poem, however, is probably more funeral than wedding (but also about love...).
Passing
Now you’re gone for good,
Nobody anybody knows.
And we won’t see your face
In the papers, on TV,
For who knows your name
To say it but me?
You were fort and fire,
Arms for comfort, eyes for warmth,
So much strength in every sense,
Not the usual push and pull.
Now all the rooms are empty
Even when they’re full.
Poems pour down hard,
Sinks are blocked, dust wins.
Simply nothing adds up
Now your time is done.
My days are lost completely
To a dying sun.
RF 2018
2 comments:
This is lovely Rachel! "Now all the rooms are empty Even when they’re full..." Yes!
Thanks Bug. I went backwards and forwards between 'even' and 'especially' (quite a few times...) but 'even' won in the end...
x
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