Grief
In a box
In the attic of my brain
Lain amongst the others
Covered, now, in dust and cobwebs
And where I go to find you
is not inside of there
The weathered mat at the door
does not welcome me
The curtains hide the empty walls
Clock chimes against the silence,
telling nobody that the endless day goes on
Inside you have been washed away
the traces of you gone
Except the echo of your foot steps on the cold and faded floors
And in its air I smell you still
Hear your voice like distant chimes
set to the tune of the last time we said
goodbye
goodbye
You are gone but you are everywhere
The wings of birds
The leaves of trees
Water over stones
There is no stillness
Though darkness falls, this day is never over
The mat remains
across the threshold of your door
unaware of passing time
except collecting fall to winter
sun to rain
gentle breezes carry leaves
from her thin and tattered thread
singing softly as they go
goodbye
goodbye
About this poem
I wrote this right after my dads passing, after I cleaned and emptied his house
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Written on November 03, 2023
Submitted by theresareinle on November 04, 2023
- 56 sec read
- 270 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | xaxxxb cxxxx xxx xxdEE b xxx x f xcxfaxdxEE |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic trimeter |
Characters | 945 |
Words | 189 |
Stanzas | 9 |
Stanza Lengths | 6, 5, 3, 5, 1, 3, 1, 1, 10 |
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"Grief" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 14 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/175298/grief>.
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