IMOGENE’S NOTEBOOK
Sorrow
a poem
Before you can understand sorrow
caress a folded flag, flood with tears,
each rifle report jolts your collapsed core.
Stand in a doorway, your dear mother struggles,
stagnant confusion fills the room.
She knows his pain is over,
delicately, she holds forever the final touch from his hand.
Witness a wailing mother, dwarfed by rubble, rocking rhythmically,
clutching the corner of a stained blanket covering her first born.
The singe of sorrow’s heat is felt as
young knees gather to your chest early on a school day morning,
waves of pulsing fresh agony crash,
no marbles on the dirt lot with Johnny… anymore.
That last look into trusted eyes,
opaque with time, your furry friend still touching your soul.
Sorrow reverberates through my body
wearing crisp white gloves, aching with each heavy step,
your fifteen-year-old self, ripe with uncharted emotion,
doused in the sweat of fear, carrying the coffin of your Giant.
A vast smoldering wasteland of residences before you,
sensing the terror of hurried escape,
lost in that moment, a mournful vision of smoking memories,
you fold a child’s ash laden blanket, placing it carefully,
hoping it is reunited with the owner.
Sorrow’s agonizing scars permeate our beings,
healing relief, slowly is released with each tick of time.
On its diminishing journey, memories help us heal.
I dedicate this writing to Louis who made his journey to another
plane two nights ago. To my lovely sister who’s processing the pain
and sorrow. Strength to you and Godspeed to him.
This poem is in response to a prompt by Debra G. Harman, MEd. What To Know About Kindness, A writing prompt inspired by Naomi Shihab Nye.
