When I returned Noe
to the earth and she sent
her staccato of sweetness up
into the unending sky,
I was not yearning
for more than I was given.
Then the blueberries got
to chattering all along
the lattice of the deck and
you rose from your empty
decade, your margin of darkness
to reach a bracken arm in.
Volunteer is what they call it
when a plant chooses you.
I did not know how to be chosen.
You showed me how the husk
of an old life becomes a chorus.
You showed me how receiving
can be as simple as holding
up my empty hands.
4 Comments on “Dear Raspberry,”
What beautiful pictures you paint of the grieving experience. We recently lost a pet and think of her daily, both in terms of how much we miss her and how much she gave us and continues to give, without us asking. Little moments occur almost daily that bring her to mind. Thank you for your lovely words. A friend of a friend runs this site: http://byebeast.org/. So sorry for your own loss.
Thanks so much, Andrea. I’m sorry for your loss of your friend…These heartbreaks sweeten and season us, don’t they?
You showed me how the husk
of an old life becomes a chorus.
Oh, what a grand poem! Yes, how the losses sing us to shore. xo
Thank you so much, dear Dale! xoxo