Take Away
Take away the blackness,
what does night become?
Remove arugula’s bitterness,
the reddened prints on a slapped
cheek, or yeast from leavened bread.
The coroner’s mask denies emotion.
We possess no less now than we did then.
One hand holds the root, the other, a trowel.
Soil, compost. Ash. Water, dreams. Renewal.
The economy of dying continues.
One mother stands alone, cradling pain in
both arms. The second shares her shadow.
“Take Away” is included in my chapbook, From Every Moment a Second, available for order now via Amazon.com and Finishing Line Press.
Beautiful🌹
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks very much!
LikeLike
Oh wow.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Leslie!
LikeLiked by 1 person
nice!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
Nice nice
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
Bob, this one is so deep. I read it several times. It is such a beautiful piece that makes you think hard about the bi-polar nature of everything and it’s effect on us.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks very much. I’ve lived to long to think that actions don’t affect others, no matter how inconsequential they seem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
As I read them, those images carry a lot of emotion, a lot.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Without imagery, we’re left with lifeless words.
LikeLike