Museum of loss

Status: Finished

Museum of loss

Status: Finished

Museum of loss Museum of loss

Poem by: A Stranger

Details

Genre: Poetry

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Summary

This poem was written after I had suffered the most traumatic experience of my life. It took six years to put on paper, and is written in memory of my father. I hope you enjoy it.

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Summary

This poem was written after I had suffered the most traumatic experience of my life. It took six years to put on paper, and is written in memory of my father. I hope you enjoy it.

Content

Submitted: January 10, 2007

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: January 10, 2007

A A A

A A A


It is a desolate landscape

Mostly of grass, with few trees

Stone artwork litters the area

Dense near him, thinning towards the horizon

He stands, alone, the wind his only companion

Blowing against his back, gently edging him forward

One step, then another, distance shortening

His goal in sight

Even during the day it is the most haunting of place

Somehow burrowing through psychic defenses

Opening old wounds

Flooding the mind with memories

The stone is dark, with silver highlights

Polished to a reflective sheen

Smooth to touch, yet always cold

A reminder of an end

His motion stops before this stone bearing his family name

He spies his reflection

"Hard like stone"

His mind says

And he seriously wonders

Has he become just that?

Stone unyielding, unfeeling, cold , hard

Weathered only by time

Its color, hard contrast

To this dull environment

Fragility counters invulnerbility

A tiny dancer among monoliths

Its sudden appearance startles him

Yet the soft beautiful colors

Of its wings

Mesmerizing

A butterfly, symbol of those loved

Who have left us

A part of those who were, that remains behind

Helping the sorrowful and embittered

It lands on the stone

Directly above his father's name

Lies motionless for what seems hours

Yet is only really moments

Then flies off

Towards the horizon and disappears

A single tear forms in his eye

Gently rolling down his face, caressing each pore as it goes

"Goodbye Dad" he murmurs

His head hung low

He whispers a silent prayer

 To this hard object erected in his father's memory

The wind his only friend

Supporting him lovingly

They stand together

In a museum of loss


© Copyright 2016 A Stranger. All rights reserved.

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