The Day After
I take my black dress
from the bedroom door
where some helpful one
has hung it neatly – I rip
it from it’s hanger so hard
that the cat jumps -as I roll
this dreaded reminder into a
ball and throw it with my shoes
with the underwear neatly folded
on the chair with my hairbrush used
to fix my hair yesterday – though it all
blew in the fierce wind of your Halloween
burial not nearly as cold as this empty morning
from the bedroom door
where some helpful one
has hung it neatly – I rip
it from it’s hanger so hard
that the cat jumps -as I roll
this dreaded reminder into a
ball and throw it with my shoes
with the underwear neatly folded
on the chair with my hairbrush used
to fix my hair yesterday – though it all
blew in the fierce wind of your Halloween
burial not nearly as cold as this empty morning
Whew, this poem blows in with the chill of a November breeze and leaves the reader standing there contemplating the burial and wondering who and why.
ReplyDeleteAwww Mary - how lovely of you to find me and to leave such a lovely comment. I am doing this November Poetic Asides Chapbook challenge I do every year and also "doing" NaNoWri Mo ... I've finished three of those but with not a finished product that I thought was much of anything... not sure I am going to continue. Nevertheless, will try to get over with something to Poets United later. Thank you again for stopping by! So very sweet
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