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When I Think Of Death (June Contest)

When I Am Asked
By: Lisel Mueller

When I am asked
how I began writing poems,
I talk about the indifference of nature.

It was soon after my mother died,
a brilliant June day,
everything blooming.

I sat on a grey stone bench
in a lovingly planted garden,
but the day lilies were deaf
as the ears of drunken sleepers
and the roses curved inward.
Nothing was black or broken
and not a leaf fell
and the sun blared endless commercials
for summer holidays.

I sat on a gray stone bench
ringed with the ingenue faces
of pink and white impatiens
and placed my grief
in the mouth of language,
the only thing that would grieve with me.

When I Think Of Death
By: Mark

It was a somber assemblage
during that February evening.
Everything dark, everyone broken.
Most of all my grandmother
lying there in a shiny mahogany box
lined with white silken blankets.

Of her life and ours we did brood,
languor was behind walls of privacy earlier.
Woebegone, I approached her
And laid my love upon her cheek,
what she always adored,
as her fugacious spirit disappeared..

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


Your words have created a powerful scene that will be memorable to this reader. A most stunning line, "...lying there in a shiny mahogany box, lined with white silken blankets." caught me and made it all feel quite real. The only suggestion I would propose is that in keeping with your rhythm and description, you might use the word "fugacious", or simply "fleeting" before the word "spirit" in the last line.

Best of luck to you, this is a gem. (Oh, I so want to put an exclamation point on it) ;)

reminds me of my poem
BEST poem then
Technically side line

Perhaps I could repost it

a poetic spell of heart and sad beauty

To your grandmother as well as vivid imagery surrounding grief and death. Each look very different to everyone person. Thank you for sharing your interpretation.

Keep Writing,

"Quoth said the Raven, NEVERMORE"

So sad and so beautiful. I can just picture you there walking up to the casket looking in and then placing a kiss upon her cheek. Still a child and yet knowing that her spirit had disappeared. Bravo for a great poem


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