I sometimes feel your absence as if it were dust,
easily disturbed by currents of sorrow,
only to settle on the remnants you left behind.
With some effort, I sweep the delicate memories
into a bin that is never full, so you won't worry that I'm okay.
Last Few Words: Ah, the holidays again. When those who are absent are missed the most.
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of my title?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft
Comments
This is so good, I love the
This is so good, I love the flow of your words, and the way dust and cleaning become a vivid metaphor for the emotions of grief and loss. Ruby :) xx
Cleaning Up After You
So still and confidential. A private, devoted conversation.
Very tender.
L
Definitely captured grief in
Definitely captured grief in its fullest form and the metaphor of dust is brilliant. With the flow and word choice it is so easy to connect. Job well done