Fill My Grave With Stars
he lay there, gasping soot,
eyes open in the black damp
seeing bright flecks, those
spots you see when lids close
or it’s dark as pitch, as now,
those careening constellations,
a dandelion tempest where
none ought to float, and
he thought it looked pretty,
the prettiest it’s ever looked
under the mountain,
then the damp took his
last breath, and then the
men hauled him out, then
filled his grave with stars
plucked from the dark,
to accompany him
in the deep earth
#TragicTuesday
6 thoughts on "Fill My Grave With Stars"
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Dang, Allen, this is so good. In addition to the content, which is powerful, there’s also originality in the images–that dandelion tempest, that grave filled with stars–and an exquisite flow in the lines. Very well done.,
Thank you so much Kevin. That means a lot, really. Started with “grave filled stars” and just went with it. This poetry month has helped me strive more for originality.
Wow, I loved how condensed this was, a complete and complex narrative
Thanks Shaun. The narrative that surfaced, and the grimness, surprised me, but glad it did. Maybe I’m channeling some ancestors. I joke sometimes I’m the first generation in my family not to lose a body part (or worse) under the hills, so …
especially love “dandelion tempest”
Beautiful poem. The dandelion tempest stuck a chord and just the speaker’s description of prettiest seemed so humble but apt