Thanks to Kuyerjudd of My Heart up Close for this week's prompt, indurated.
After drinking for so long from an ancestral pool of tears, one becomes lost. Find a safe place with a clear stream. Listen to the sound. If it pleases you drink slowly, so as not to become intoxicated. Drink. Drought is not an option.
Sherpa, Daughter
Carrying your satchels
this far
I pause to
taste my own weathered grief
through a soda straw.
6 comments:
we allow vast amounts of relief to others yet so little to ourselves.
This is beautiful. So much said in so few words. Excellent work.
Melanie
very nice- I like that drought is not an option. Beautiful image as well!
.. the poet is never an inventor _ never inventing products _
at the bottom of it the poem is only a desire ..
Evocative. Grief finds a way in, finds a way to become our food.
This is beautiful. So much said in so few words. Excellent work.
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