I: Elemental Elegy#
The day I sat by death’s grey bed,
I told a story green and true
Of city bricks stacked proud and red,
Of silver paths the stars imbue
With golden hue we might have tread,
Your slowing breath as cold as blue.
I spoke the words to yellow skin
And told of days in white to come.
Your mouth, with specks of purple grin,
And fingers stretched so pale and numb,
My name, you said, so clear, so thin–
With final grasp, in black succumb.
Oh–Father, Father–brass horns blare!
You string your harp with diamond thread
And leave in me this slate despair!
What crystal tears in eyes now shed?
What pearl is formed by sightless stare?
What platinum found in prayers pled?
The oak around your body wraps
As shoots of pine through spine are grown.
In loam the roots will bind your scraps
Despite the flowers laid on stone.
Each time I come a stem I snap,
For only Earth deserves your bone.
March 2025
Date |
Publication |
Status |
|---|---|---|
March 27, 2025 |
Poetry Magazine |
Pending |
April 7, 2025 |
The New Yorker |
Pending |
June 1, 2025 |
The Louisville Review |
Rejected |
June 3, 2025 |
Frontier Poetry |
Pending |
June 4, 2025 |
Swan Scyth Press |
Pending |
June 6, 2025 |
Boulevard Magazine |
Pending |
June 13, 2025 |
New Verse Review |
Rejected |
June 14, 2025 |
Grand Little Things |
Pending |
June 22, 2025 |
Backbone Mountain Review |
Pending |
June 25, 2025 |
The Aftershock Review |
Pending |
July 10, 2025 |
The Metaworker |
Pending |