LETTERS TO THE DEAD:THIRTY
death I thought
a walk through a thin
stream…bodies beneath
each up-turned stone
here the heart…there
the soul…nowhere the mind
death I thought
with nothing on beneath
her belly botton…no shame
to hide…no sheets
to wrinkle…no furrowed
brow of useless worry
death I thought
could be managed
on such a pleasant jaunt
but June pulled up her dress
and let a torrent loose
death I thought
…a soaked slog
back to the house
9 thoughts on "LETTERS TO THE DEAD:THIRTY"
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This captures the force and dread of it, I think.
Your work this turn has been both inspirating and comforting. I should live that a poet like Lally would have words about our paths crossing.
What a powerful poem. The title called to me and the image of June being a woman hiking up her skirts is amazing–shock and beauty all in one.
In letting loose a torrent of words, your poems did bring each person back to life
I have loved this series. The last soaked slog back to the house, yes.
I love this, it feels very taboo or secretive.
Thank you so much for all the kind comments that you have given me this year, I hope to see you next year!
I have enjoyed every one of these letters. Thanks, Jim, for taking us along on your journey!
Dear Jim,
You had me after five. Thanks for completing the appointed task. I can only imagine how painful, yet cathartic, yet life-affirming the work was.
You spoke well of and for the departed.
but June pulled up her dress
and let a torrent loose
Thanks, Jim, for this month’s words.