like a shawl
slips off my shoulders like silk.
No matter how many times
I gather you up in my arms,
you do not want to be here.
I can see your bitterness,
the same vacant look
in Grandmother’s eyes
before she died—
here but not here
there but not there,
cursing that liminal space.
I can hear your bitterness,
lightning silenced by
the opaque clouds
of forged laughter—
constricted by etiquette and religion,
shedding through cracks in the wall,
bitterness curdled in your veins.
Shawn R. Jones
Vacant look in Grand Ma’s eyes before she died… wow that was scary and heart touching. Love your analogies… Love the way you have expressed your heart wrenching sadness.
Thank you again for stopping by! This is not an autobiographical poem, even though it is written in the first person. lol
I am honored that a writer with your talent is enjoying my work. Keep blessing others with your gift!
On my way to your page now :}
It is really beautiful to witness the bitterness blending with sweetness through your poem. It was a sheer delightful experience reading it. I loved the rhythm and the story weaved.
Reva, thank you so much for your encouragement and comment!
“…bitterness blending with sweetness…” I love that phrase!
Shawn, What was your motivation for the poem?
Hi Mortimer! Thank you so much for stopping by and please forgive me for responding so slowly. I was experiencing some technical difficulties.
I was inspired by a sermon I heard. A Pastor was actually speaking to her congregation. I took it and ran with it 🙂
Thank you so much for stopping by!