Have you been a pall bearer?

Hefted the weight of a life

On your knitted shoulders

Waited out a scraped legacy

The bare snow covered branches

Truncating desolate plowed fields

Bird feathers showing in peppered shake

A recent emptying of warmth

Wearing kid yellow gloves because of early snow

Have you? Ever

Felt the weight digging into your neck?

Prizing reflection from your mortal frame

For he who rides on your calcifying bones

The errant and purposed heaviness of death

What did you think?

Going home to lean on thin elbows at kitchen table

Watching scarred pigeons on the sill

Coo and jostle for favored place in good fat sun

How stirred your mind

To the carrying of a whole life?

The resonance of loss, an impression

Marking you sutured and changed

Oh Lord, anything but cantinflear

0 Replies to “Shoulders”

      1. I miss you as well Miss Feather, I am well, my output is very intermittent but at least I am still writing when I can. Not enough poetry or stories, alas, though a few poems. But all is good. Trust everything is good with you, though you are such a master of the shocking/dark/intense confessional I do worry about you. Great word, clever clogs. I am envious.

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