12 January 2005

Poetry : Death of a Flower

I wrote this poem within a year of losing my aunt to cancer and my cousin to an aneurysm. It is about mourning and grief.

the mourning by onkel_wart

What heals these wounds?

one endless funeral procession.

The owls
are forever screeching
in our trees ---

---Calling out
the names.

Now lost
to the
infinite blackness,
akin to the night sky.

---Predicting our losses
which loom so large.

As if
each soul
were as nameless
as a star,
a million rosary beads.

At this hour
counting seems
to the
who feel lost,

wearing their mourning

owls wear their feathers.

---July 23, 1999 Amber © All Rights Reserved.


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