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
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
Björn Rudbergs writings 
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.
Ah yes November 1st we celebrate All Saints
Happy you dropped by to read mine
Much love…
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.
This is perfect, Bjorn. The melancholy is palpable.
Dark and emotional. Death is always so close your words bring this darkness to light.
Seriously dark and melancholic, Björn…an apt poem for Käthe Kollwitz’s Ruf des Todes
Beautiful imagery.
What I fear most is not death but being left alone. Though dark and melancholic written beautifully.
Not cold headstone which presents a symbol but more of the emotional aspects that linger on
Hank
This is beautiful – November in England is when we remember the fallen of far too many wars.
really enjoyed this one – how it flows and sounds
I thought of all saints day writing it…
Your poem impacted me .. deeply.
The emotions and scenery in this poem reminded me of a family member.
Wonderful and eerie poem, Bjorn!
Powerful, powerful words…..
For the ones left behind – this is often the case. “deep you bend on knees… ” less a headstone… very powerful poem.