a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Fire and Stone

It was a dusty blue day
our vessels
our bodies weeping
our veins standing out
with fear
that the search
for the body
for any word
would not result in
"She's here!"
We take a moment
to say her name
praying she is 
than fire and stone
wrapping ourselves
in hope over dread
we move on


Susan Kane said...

Very un-nerving, perfect for All Saints' Day.

Sandra said...

i agree with Susan, fits all saints day really well..

I sat weeping, on the dusty stone floor. the veins in my body felt like they were flowing with blue fire. I had searched for a vessel with for days. the only word I could say is I am bleeding to death. Sandra is my name.

Linda Kay said...

Your blog this morning reminded me of those searching for lost loved ones in the flood waters. How awful, but even worse when they are never found.

Jae Rose said...

How hard to move on when you cannot bury or properly mourn the person you have lost..and yet we must keep going step by step and emotive and powerful poem - one of endurance and survival..

Lynne said...

I agree . . .
Perfect for All Saint's Day . . .

Karen S. said...

I totally agree, great thought provoking piece, bravo.

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