Bottom, Falling
Through that window you see another bird
rising, unlabeled, unwanted, yet noticed.
A limb’s last leaf. The boy’s breath.
Like the morning after your father died,
when temperature didn’t register
and heat shallowed through the morning’s
end. Still you shivered. Glass. Wind.
Night’s body. How to calibrate nothing’s
grace? Take notes. Trace its echo. Try.
“Bottom Falling” was published in Into the Void in October 2016, and is included in my chapbook, From Every Moment a Second.
O at the Edges 
Beautiful piece. Random moments intertwined with pieces of memories, saddened and separated by physical things. This took me back to the morning of both my parent’s funerals. It is strange what we remember and what we choose to forget. Extremely thought provoking, thank you.
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Thank you, Joni. I’m so pleased that it resonated for you. That is all I could hope for!
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It was powerful and resonate it did. Thanks again.
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Yes….. I’m still trying Robert………
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That’s what we do, Ivor. Keep trying…
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I’m trying to try… 😁
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Wow.
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Thank you, Elaine!
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I found this poem relatable, and am still trying to trace the echo of their voices.
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I like to think that readers may make the voices their own.
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Brief, but so very tender…oof. I find myself reading it over and over, like a certain perfume I really like…
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Thanks, DeanJean! Good to hear from you. I hope all is well.
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Hi Robert, you’re welcome! All is good, I just needed to take a little break. And how about you?
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Life is interesting, changing. But change is good!
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Indeed! 😊
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