Sunday, July 21, 2013

OH ONE, NOT OF MY BLOOD


                 



(for Baby M)

Oh one, not of my blood
How is it I have become
the keeper of your soul...

I think my sea of tears
has surely run dry;
I have locked you away
in a room, protected
from further harm,
A room to which only
I hold the key

And I am swallowing it...
The conceit I carry
with me being--
Only I am able
to repair the night
that haunts you now.

Yes, I am become
driven to write
your slate anew
Knowing even as I
yearn, the foolishness
of this

There will be
no meshing
of gears for you
or your ashes
No matter how
many bargains
I am willing
to forge
with Time.

8 comments:

  1. This is sad. I think of the bargains I've been willing to forge, and it haunts. And that room with only one key.... desolate. Strong write, Sharon.

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  2. Beautiful and so sad. I am guessing it is about the loss of a baby. I can think of no more tragic loss than that of a child. My condolences to you.

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  3. To become the keeper of another's soul is an awesome and terrible--and sacred--task.

    A Wee Whirl

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  4. Tender and raw, written so beautifully.

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  5. This poem feels so like a personal cri de coeur that reading it feels almost an intrusion

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  6. There's a sadness that revolves around this. Am feeling it just as much. Beautiful write!

    Hank

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