Black Ribbon

Written for:  Poetic Asides April 2017 Challenge – Day 7
Write a discovery poem.

I do not need a reminder
to recall my mother’s death.
Found black ribbon in a binder.
I do not need a reminder.
Could I have been kinder?
Was not there for her last breath.
I do not need a reminder
to recall my mother’s death.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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4 Responses to Black Ribbon

  1. whimsygizmo says:

    Oh, Sara. This knocks the breath out of me. I am so sorry for your loss. Those pieces of life (and death) just kick the crap out of us at the most unexpected times. This is a wonderful use of the triolet form, an admonition to the universe. Well done.

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  2. Shawna says:

    This is so painful to read. My mother lives a thousand miles away from me, and this is what will happen. I honestly can’t handle reading this. I think this is why I’ve braced myself, so hard, against emotions. It started when my mom had her strokes and disappeared to a degree; it worsened when my dad died several years ago. I just can’t handle allowing myself to feel anything anymore. Even the happy feelings are painful in a way. Since I realized my parents were being taken away from me, my heart couldn’t be allowed to exist anymore.

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    • Oh Shawna. I understand how you feel. I try to concentrate on every good time we spent together. You need your heart to feel with, or you won’t recognize joy in all its little forms.

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