A lonesome leaf

Death is less a headstone
than a lonesome leaf, clinging to a bough.
You might leave a wreath;
you might burn the lights;
but true remembrance
is what gnaws your bones and marrow;
Its November sorrows,
daylight lost and ice of morrows.

And deep you bend on knees
you hope for sleep,
you dull yourself with booze
you wait a while cause
death is less a headstone
than a lonesome leaf, clinging to a bough.

Call of death by Kathe Kollwitz

Call of death by Kathe Kollwitz

Stacie is calling for poetry reflecting the seasons at toads. I find the fall to be something close to death, and we are approaching all saints day when lights should be lit on graveyards.

October 28, 2016

16 responses to “A lonesome leaf

  1. Bjorn, thank you so much for participating! Your poem is indeed a dark one, of a dying season yielding to the cold. I feel the sorrow & loneliness in it. The last image of the solitary leaf, barely clinging to life – heartbreaking & beautiful.

  2. This is damn good poetry. That stretched-out “B-ow” was very clever. The repetition is effective in drawing out your intentions.

    “Headstone” makes me think of kidney stones. ~An awful curse to befall a man. Not nearly as nice for the head as say, “mmm-arrow(s).” But you get what you get.

I try to reciprocate all comments. If you want me to visit a particular post, please direct me directly to that post.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s