The scent
wound around the room
burrowed up the nostrils
and drained out eyes.
Set away
from sensitive noses
the lily’s petals have fallen
and still its heavy scent
fills the heated air,
present in death,
like warm memories
of you.
poem-drowning July 15, 2014
Word came
that the ship was lost:
No survivors.
Her beloved
perished amid a storm
In her dreams
she sees him
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
sinking
sinking
sinking
drifting
drifting
drifting
on her
tears.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I suppose this could be about Echo in the Bone by Diana Gabaldon, but in fact, it came from listening to The Lost Wife by Alyson Richman. It also reminds me of a family story.
My grandfather was a ship captain on the St. Lawrence Seaway. One day, a knock came on the door, and my grandmother was told gravely that his ship had sunk, and he was lost. This would no doubt have been far more traumatic, had grandpa not been sitting in the living room at the time.
poem- grandma June 28, 2014
I have lost her words
The narrative spun away
across the void of time.
I no longer hear her voice
echoing through my mind.
But here
a grocery list
a flash of history
Though mostly she is lost
to time and left
a mystery.
poem- grief June 3, 2014
Today
I watched your smile
twinkling on the seas
I heard your laughter
rustling in the trees
I heard your voice whisper
0n the evening breeze
I saw your image
dancing in the leaves
I felt you everywhere
gifting me with memories
comforting me with peace.
poem- hoarder February 13, 2014
She hoards memories
In books and art.
She hoards accomplishment
In clothes and fabric
She holds tightly
Against insecurity
Things are a bulwark
Against uncertainty.
She creates a
measure of control
against anger, anxiety
and angst.
When she is safe,
Secure and satisfied
The barriers may
Be burnt, but for now
She clings to what was.
poem- mother December 28, 2013
He said
his mother was dead,
because the gulf
between them
was wide with guilt
and jumping it
was beyond
their capability.
She said
her son was lost
because his choices
marooned him
on an island of his own making
and would not let
anyone in.
They said
their journeys
were in opposite directions
but eventually,
on the other side of the world,
they’re bound to intersect.
poem-gifts October 23, 2013
She held out
her insecurities
cupped in her hands
and asked him
for reassurance,
but he just looked down
his nose at her
silent
.
He had no
kind word
to give,
no kind heart.
.
And so she stood
face upturned in
silent misery
and held tight to
the gift
of isolation.
poem- when I loved you July 26, 2013
When I loved you
I gathered hope
into a basket.
I saved your smile,
your voice
your messages,
your kiss,
your letters,
your music,
all wrapped in
mingled memories.
I saved you,
an artefact of artifice.
On rainy days
you tumbled onto
the table of
my mind,
a shining
collection of what
was never real,
a perfect impression
of impossibility,
from a basket
of wasted dreams.
Poem-soap July 20, 2013
Sitting on a soap bubble
floating in sunshine
reflected glare on the surface
of my seat
blinds me.
I rise on
the iridescent
clarity
of the emptiness
that is my only
safety
from the
inevitable
bursting
fall
you June 18, 2013
Your footprints mark the dirt in your garden.
Your finger prints are on the door frame.
Your handwriting tells me we need
Saskatoon berry jam
potatoes
and milk.
Your hair is tangled in your comb.
Your breath is in the bristles of your toothbrush.
Your head left its impression on your pillow.
Your scent is on your clothes in the closet.
But you
are gone.
Shawn L. Bird 