Haunted

I follow the sound shards of her
laughter across the icy stone walk
and over the fence where the sweetbriar
grows in the summer.

I chase the whisper of her mirth
bent sideways on the wind,
a dance of yellow ribbon
winding through the pines.

The echo of joyous spirits fades
in the cherry grove, giving way
to faint winter cries and hearts
exposed by the red peeling bark.

Steps retraced as snow succumbs
to rain, back to the house where
there is fire but no warmth, stained
newspapers which tell nothing new,

the fresh fruit of summer is replaced
with dried peaches and memories
fill the spaces once occupied by
the sounds of her laughter.

Cherry tree grove

Written for Shawna’s Words.

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15 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

15 responses to “Haunted

  1. Ooh, I really like this:
    “Steps retraced as snow succumbs
    to rain, back to the house where
    there is fire but no warmth”

    And this:
    “spirits fades
    in the cherry grove, giving way
    to faint winter cries and hearts
    exposed by the red peeling bark”

    Really good sound throughout; I liked the words you’ve added, and the sad tale you’ve told. A painful expression of loss made beautiful through elements of nature. It’s all part of life’s cycling.

  2. Oh, my. Mark, I LOVE this:
    “I follow the sound shards of her
    laughter”
    Holy cow. That’s gorgeous.

  3. Steps retraced as snow succumbs
    to rain, back to the house where
    there is fire but no warmth, stained
    newspapers which tell nothing new,
    How hauntingly lonely, and lovely you capture so much emotion with your beautiful words.

  4. I really enjoyed this piece, Mark, there is so much heart in each stanza. I’m happy for the parts that are a bit wistful, the laughter and the dance and the ribbon.

  5. Your words are wonderfully constructed to paint a picture of grief.

  6. i agree with viv.. a paint of a picture of grief…esp…the fresh fruit of summer is replaced
    with dried peaches and memories…grabbed me..

  7. a dance of yellow ribbon
    winding through the pines.

    Love this image and the word bump…winding/pines!!!

    Excellent piece, Mark!!!

  8. A great poem, seriously … well crafted lines and images. Thank you for this precious gift of poetry.

  9. Amy

    Hi there! Please check out my new poetry blogzine and submit your best work: brevitypoetryreview.blogspot.com/

  10. I like the way the seasons were woven throughout the description of the woman – delicate and sincerely written.

  11. Mark, you are one of those rare men who understand and know how to write about women, both metaphorically and realistically. The echoes of her laughter haunted me a bit, like moving out of any apartment they once shared and standing in an empty room before leaving. Great. Amy
    http://sharplittlepencil.com/2012/08/10/hela-for-poets-united-think-tank-thursday/

  12. A beautiful memory! Thank you for sharing!

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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