April 10, 2018
I planned on posting another poem today, but it’s being just nasty to me.
This is one I started ages ago. When I abandoned the other one and picked it up, it seemed like a piece of cake getting it to where I’m not embarrassed to share it.
This is one I started ages ago. When I abandoned the other one and picked it up, it seemed like a piece of cake getting it to where I’m not embarrassed to share it.
It’s for my Dad.
Tribulation
My father
was a logger,
a high rigger,
a faller of stoic giants.
It's perversely fitting
that one of them felled him
was a logger,
a high rigger,
a faller of stoic giants.
It's perversely fitting
that one of them felled him
My father
was handsome:
a tall, blonde,
Nordic god,
heir to kingdoms of possibility.
When gods fall, they fall hard.
was handsome:
a tall, blonde,
Nordic god,
heir to kingdoms of possibility.
When gods fall, they fall hard.
My father
couldn’t climb up
into his before.
He raged against
his impossibly broken body
and let dark descend.
couldn’t climb up
into his before.
He raged against
his impossibly broken body
and let dark descend.
It's a powerful poem, Cheriee, so filled with both glory and heartache. I love the inner rhyme & the voice that drives the rhythm. Well done. And, your father was very handsome. I'm sorry for the accident. We just don't know what the next day will bring, hence those old sayings like "live today, not for tomorrow".
ReplyDeleteThat is so true Linda. The accident was long ago, and he did eventually mostly climb his way out of that darkness.
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