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Open Poetry #12
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Packratmike
Senior Member
since 2001-02-25
Posts 632
California, USA

0 posted 2001-03-22 02:18 AM


I'm not sure how to classify this. Just something I felt like sharing and I hope it's worthy.....Mike

Wags

The shovel blade
speared into the damp clay surface
with a metallic hiss.
Sparse grass roots
popped in protest
as Dad pried and pulled aside
the dark brown sod.
No grunts or groans
to show his exertion,
just the steady,
mechanical motions of digging,
turning,
emptying,
turning
and digging again.

I watched expressionless,
thinking back to ancient history
where a chubby black and white pup,
slept on a bed of rags in our kitchen.
The warmth of the oven
and the constant ticking
of an old alarm clock
placed next to him
comforted him and allowed him to sleep
like he was within the love
of his mother's tummy.
That's what Mom and Dad would say
and I would go off
to my own room and sleep soundly,
oblivious
of his midnight wails
and whimpers for attention.

It was an odd Spring day.
Not a breeze to rustle the leaves
to help hide a sniffle or sob
so I bit my lip and placed my thoughts elsewhere.
I hid in memories of Wags
with excited licks and floppy ears,
a protective growl for strangers,
the fetch of a twisted stick
or the naps we two would take together....
I hid in these memories
yet they still led back to here.....
to this damnable Spring day
where Dad was digging
with no grunts
or moans
to show his emotions.

All was quiet
except for his footsteps
as I watched him lay down his shovel
and gently pick up
the old blanket and its contents.
He moved carefully
to the freshly dug hole
and slowly placed it inside.
An old clock
dropped loudly in the dirt
with a half ring.
Dad muttered angrily
and hurriedly
stuffed it back into the blanket
glancing at me
with an embarrassed look.
I couldn't pretend I didn't see it.
I just put my hand across my tight lips
and forced myself to look away.

Dull thuds of damp dirt
hitting the faded blanket
took me back to Wags,
tugging at a braided rug
hanging across the clothesline
as Mom pounded the dust out of it.
"Go away! Get out of here!"
she screamed half laughing,
feigning anger.
Dad finished up,
tamping the dirt
into a neatly groomed pile.
He straightened his back
with an audible pop
and smeared a bead of sweat
across his cheek
with the heel of his dirty hand.
Not looking at me,
he turned and walked away saying,
"I'll see ya back at the house."

I watched him
as he walked down the path,
shovel over his shoulder
and hand in his pocket
searching
for a forgotten handkerchief.
At last,
we were both alone
to freely grieve
on a horribly
quiet
Spring
day.



"HEY, DON'T THROW THAT AWAY, I MIGHT NEED IT SOMEDAY!!!" Packratmike

[This message has been edited by Packratmike (edited 03-23-2001).]

© Copyright 2001 Mike Powers - All Rights Reserved
Paula Finn
Member Ascendant
since 2000-06-17
Posts 5546
missouri
1 posted 2001-03-22 02:33 AM


Oh Mike...oh man...your friend he was...faithful and true...Ive shed tears for my lil lost pups...and will again when my babes now go...I have three...Yoshe...Jericho...Sasha...all curled up in my bed right now...doesnt leave much room for mom
Severn
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704

2 posted 2001-03-22 03:23 AM


This is written in such a narrative style it almost could be prose/poetry...

I like it a lot Mike...a lot.

Nice imagery, nice tension..

K

Packratmike
Senior Member
since 2001-02-25
Posts 632
California, USA
3 posted 2001-03-22 03:45 AM


Paula....I've lost many a pet and always say never again. Right now I'm down to a hamster and a few fish. This fish don't bother me too much when they go, but I'm not sure how I'm going to react when my furry little hamster leaves. Sounds funny, but he is a little personality around here.

Severn...thanks for the comments, glad you liked it. Part of the tension I tried to relate here was the inability to openly or freely express one's feelings of loss around others. In this piece, grief was struggled with but did not win over the father and son until they found themselves alone.

Mike

Marge Tindal
Deputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores
4 posted 2001-03-22 08:21 AM


PackRatMike~
This is poignant and wonderful and memory-evoking.
Tenderly portrayed.
~*Marge*~

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
noles1@totcon.com


Packratmike
Senior Member
since 2001-02-25
Posts 632
California, USA
5 posted 2001-03-23 01:43 AM


Thank you, Marge!
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