Lament for a Pillar of Salt

They tell me your garden
is overgrown by burdock
thistle and wild mustard,
and if there is no rain
even weeds will wither there.

I have no time to look:
I hoe my own garden rows,
carry buckets all day
and sing to our children
to ease their memories
of your raving and fall to earth.

They tell me less each week,
and I meet you less
in wind-tossed dreams;
your screaming across the valley
is finally erased by wind
the lowing of cattle
and vocabulary of crows.

I pray for rain.

[print_link]

(Visited 35 times, 1 visits today)
FavoriteLoadingAdd to favorites

About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
This entry was posted in lotus eaters, Poetry, serial and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Lament for a Pillar of Salt

  1. stephanie says:

    This is beautiful. It feels like a short story to me….

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *