In a Clearing in the Cemetery I Found a Broken Stone
I've been wondering:
who now alive remembers
the words that told your life?
I lift the branch, look:
moondrift light, a dry light breath,
a stone set adrift
in the dry leaf-sea clearing
You were written, read, erased.
(Sarge and I wrote this together. It was fun!)
find more Magpie Tales here.
31 comments:
This has a nice feel to it. Catches the wistfulness.
Trulyfool
Nice work from both of you...
What a team.. and thanx for the link...XXX
And I enjoyed reading it!
www.angiemuresan.com
nice...that last line is chilling beautiful..
moondrift light, a dry light breath,
a stone set adrift
lovely words
well done you two! just the right amount of melancholia and nostalgia for the season or maybe it's just me. xoxoxox
Yet another wonderful Mag. The last line is PERFECTION! Love and Light, Sender
Amazing Leah....the last line is flawless!....just love your blog!
:-)
A delightful read. Life as such: Written, read, erased indeed.
Beautiful. I read this out loud. Twice.
Welcome to Magpie, Leah!
A lovely poem.
What we do remember of course is people's characteristic remarks and sayings. "Always look on the bright side." "Don't make funny faces, you'll get stuck like it." They linger on when the everyday conversations are long forgotten.
Moondrift light and dry-leaf sea are pictures that certainly do it for me! :)
How many of us look at headstones and wonder what the story is behind the life that was?
Lovely piece.
written read and erased...well done!
this is so true.
well done (:
great writing!
a beautiful verse.. well done :D
My Magpie
Solid & Real.
Too true.
'who now alive remembers
the words that told your life?'
Sometimes I look at such sadness from the point of view of the dead person and wonder what the fuss is about. The next thought is a question about those left behind, prompted by your ppoem. Does their grief, their guilt their atonemnet expressed in a monumental stone that loses its relevance once the 'alive' cease to remember?
I guess it never was there to serve the dead and reverts back to being a stone witn curious markings.
Why we concentrate so much energy on death still remains clouded. A Human mystery.
By the way, I did read down through your blog and got a picture of you, your amazing mum and your interesting family! As a baby you looked more like Grandma but Mum won out in the end!
Hey, you're back with your old picture. What happened to the blonde Leah?
simple and beautiful!
Sounds like poetry to me:)
I love wandering round graveyards; one of my favourites was Pere Lachaise in Paris where so many great people are buried.
nicely worded. There's something very beautiful in writing a poem together, I believe it connects ones souls.And it's rather unique, so, I'm happy for the bond between you both.Sweet poem ,ty for sharing.
The family that writes together plights together. Or something like that.
It does strike at the heart of the question about who there is to remember us after we've gone. Lovely stuff from the two of you.
Thanks For the link for Magpie Tales Leah. I've had a go and already got some lovely comments...
This poem by yourself and sarge inspired me... thank you.
I especially like "dry leaf-sea clearing."
JUHUUUUU ... !
A favourite pastime of Map & The Youngest, scouring old headstones for history, who was she/he, what kind of life did they have, who remembers them! We take pictures too, must do a post on that! Wonderful poem Leah. :¬)
xxx
Absolutely lovely!
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