In Memory of Elizebeth McAvinue: 1896–1965
A poem
This poem is a response to Sahil Patel’s prompt in Lifeline for the month of October on the theme: the sensation of feeling the wind.
I don’t know who Elizebeth McAvinue was, but she seemed to call out to me one fall day.
Thanks for reading.
In Memory of Elizebeth McAvinue: 1896–1965
By Claudio D’Andrea
Autumn’s eerie balmy breeze
wafts over and around
your cold stone,
the headboard
to your eternal bed
Do you feel it?
The Allman Brothers pay tribute
to another Elizabeth
through tiny earbuds
while I park my bike
and ponder your legacy
Do you hear it?
Your neighbours all face north
in narrow quarters of cold stone
while you stare in my direction,
all alone in your eternal garden —
now perhaps as you were then
Do you see them?
I wonder if the digger
made a mistake
when he planted your stone,
or jested like poor Yorick’s drunken clown
and pointed you in the wrong direction
Did you try to stop him?
Or maybe you were unique,
like a solitary figure
on a dark landscape
resisting the gale
that blew away the others
Did you scream?
Did you want to stand out from the crowd?
Fiercely individual and alone,
singular like your name,
did you want to stand alone
for all eternity?
Did you know how to spell?
i or a before e
except after … z? Elizebeth
Did you rebel against Elizabeth?
Travel another avinue from McAvenue?
Were you single and singular?
***
Rest peacefully, dear Elizebeth
far from the crowded madness.
When the wintry blasts come
and the guitars wail to Elizabeth Reed,
in your scentless garden
and sightless surroundings
take comfort in your cold, old bed.
And know that you reached
at least one other soul
Are you reading this?
Claudio D’Andrea has been writing and editing for newspapers, magazines and online publications for more than 30 years. You can read his stuff on LinkedIn and Medium.com and follow him on Twitter (now X).
