The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #237
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com
piece, bucks, hike, law, match, ramp,
drone, cross, chop, bay, see, believe
Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #45
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/
germs, skirts, envelope, fever, carrying, cake,
swaying, memory, suitcases, hiding, scissors, sharp
Poets United: Poetry Pantry #289
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/
Blue Ice
Driving up the ramp to the long bridge
that crosses the mouth of the river, where
it meets the bay. See long line of snow and ice,
like white frothy frosting on ice-blue cake.
I was flower girl at their wedding, wore a soft
blue satin dress that swayed as I walked down
the aisle in matching satin slippers. We are quiet,
skirting the issue that precipitates this journey.
Each carrying individual suitcases of memory,
hiding germs of grief that cut like sharp scissors.
Although we believe (enveloped hope) in an afterlife,
reality bucks its head with unasked questions.
As we hike up to church entrance, am aware
that this piece of my past is no longer breathing.
Conquered by that final fever and the natural
law that all life ends in death.
Not anticipating drone of funeral organ, I look
up to see his sons. Each one wearing aspects
of his visage. Can finally let go of the breath
I’ve been holding and see image in my head.
An axe falls, chopping ice into smaller and smaller
chunks, allowing it to melt so that life may flow
freely once again.
Elizabeth Crawford 2/7/16
Notes: My uncle passed away and we attended his funeral on Friday. He was my favorite of the twelve we had, and husband to the woman I am named after. I was four when I stood up for their wedding. He was an integral part of my existence, both of them present at every major celebration and family gathering. I was okay once I saw his sons, now in their forties and fifties. It was like knowing, deep inside, that somehow he would still always be there.
I used all of the words and the image is a photograph taken two years ago and enhanced digitally.
Soul's Music 
With the death of any loved one we die a little death too. This is a stunningly beautiful tribute to your uncle so beautifully written.
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I really like how you describe death not as an end but as something that continue.. It’s all a process we go through I think. Such a special story embedded in this poem.
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I m so sorry for your loss Elizabeth.. this is a beautiful tribute.
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Sorry for your loss. This poem is just beautiful… loved it. Especially last bit about the melting ice for life to flow smoothly.
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Moving. Accomplished, as always.
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So sorry for your loss Elizabeth….”Each one wearing aspects / of his visage.” comforting lines….
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The relief of that breath is so evident – each word tenderly placed and patiently processing the next step..i suppose we have to recalibrate in a way after a loss. Find a sense of peace and order and continuation – not that it is neat, tidy and ‘better’ all of a sudden but finding a way to keep being and breathing? Gentle thoughts to you Elizabeth xo
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Elizabeth, it always amazes me what you can do with the collection of words. So many years covered in this poem. So many memories. It is hard when pieces of our past die off one by one like this, but comforting (in its own way) to see that life goes on and parts of him live on in his sons. I like the afterwords in italics which sum up the whole concept. I really like this poem! One of my favorities of yours. Time to do a chapbook?
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Death and grief are so personal…we each feel and see it in our own way. But your images of the ice, ‘like white frothy frosting on ice-blue cake’ were stunning and the use of an axe to cut and melt the ice of grief was so personal to me….melting my icy heart that still feels logger jammed all these
years later after my father’s death.
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That photo is stunning, my friend, and you wrote this journey so well. So hard to lose someone so much there through all of one’s history….so nice to see him, still, in his sons. I felt like I was in the car with you, and then in the church. I very much saw that little girl, in her ice blue finery……..
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I really admire your guiding metaphor here… the image of blue ice, and how, at the end, it must break to flow on. A great way of appreciating your experience. Very poetic.
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I like the image of friends and family at a funeral each carrying individual suitcases of memory…baggage.
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This is just so moving and tender.
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Well translated from emotion, compassion, and into words.
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the natural law that all life ends in death is just one of the many moments in your poem above that I resonated well with. no one escapes this law. it’s sad and true. thank you for the solemn tone of your piece. I felt at peace while reading it. May your Uncle rest in peace, love, and light. thanks.
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A beautifully written and tender tribute to special person.
Click here to read my Whirlie!
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Sorry for your loss, my condolences
Much love…
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My condolences Elizabeth. Your poem beautifully describes your loss and your love. I too lost someone recently (my mother-in-law). I hear your poem so clearly.
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So poignant in the specifics of your experience but there is also such deep resonance here for the universal experience of loss.
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I love these lines:
“like white frothy frosting on ice-blue cake”
“reality bucks its head with unasked questions”
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What a beautiful tribute to your uncle, and to life!
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Of all the shinning things you have written, this one stand out, stand alone, shines a special light, thank you so much for sharing your special talent to see the world as only you can!
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A good uncle is a great treasure! This is most poignant.
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