I catch your amber eyes across mine
Between subway stops & grating wheels
Your braided long-grey hair is
A hornet's nest
Everyone shies away from your shadow
Your dusty sandals & clothes showed
where you have been -
Scorched by sun
The train track greases by river bend
Gentle as slow butterfly
But nothing moves you, not a flicker
Sorrow is a bird
Hiding in your pouch
Too long, it has not flown
Too long, it has not eaten
Yet it sings, hardy as cactus
Leafless, spiny & spiky
Coloring your weathered hands
Lost as your native land.
I wonder what grief
has torn your eyes to silt & mortar?
I wonder at the sound of your voice?
Loud as gunfire?
Or soft pebble falling in rain?
All too quickly, the station stop comes
The afternoon sun wrinkles
our faces as we all spring to our feet
except you
man with dead-stone eyes.
Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Inspired by title Sorrow by Claribel Alegria. I have not experienced a personal loss of my own family so I thought of viewing sorrow from a third person point of view.
and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~ Happy weekend ~
Picture credit: here
i have lost a few that led me to sorrow...and it will def suck the life out of you...take that light and leave your eyes quite hollow...nice descriptives...the train track greasing the bend is a cool line...
ReplyDeletethink i would let sorrow is a bird...start that next stanza, instead of ending the one before...
Thanks for the input Brian ~ Will edit some more, smiles ~
DeleteOh dear you know Im not a poet that is for you and for Brian
ReplyDeleteBut many times whe I travel in subways and buses I saw these eyes, sad eyes..
Beautiful and touching Grace!
♡♥
Thanks Gloria ~
DeleteNot much can be left in the eyes indeed, as such a loss truly takes seed
ReplyDeleteThanks Pat ~
DeleteThis is such a vivid write, Grace. I can really picture this man from your description & feel the pain of his unspoken grief.
ReplyDeleteThanks Mary ~ This happened yesterday on my way home & I just had to write about it ~
DeleteLoss and grief can totally sap your will; sadly you have captured this admirably.
ReplyDeleteThank you JCN ~
Deletebeautiful description. a very entrancing write. I so want to hear the song no matter how sorrow filled it be.
ReplyDeleteI wonder at what of song it would be ~ Thanks RMP ~
DeleteWe know not the day, nor the hour, nor which train on which it will happen. But one day we must.....because it is time to go. Your writing gives great clue that man died of a broken heart. And just how did YOU feel the rest of that day?
ReplyDeleteSad. Well crafted
His sad eyes and wrinkled face stayed with me the whole time Steve ~ Thanks for the visit ~
Delete"Sorrow is a bird...too long it has not flown....yet it sings"......I can see this person with the dead-stone eyes. So many sorrowing hearts everywhere.
ReplyDeleteStanza six is my favorite but they all flow into one another beautifully… your poetic eye really never turns off, does it? Lucky for us. This is gorgeous.
ReplyDeletethere is such beauty in your description.. and i love how well the poem flows..
ReplyDeleteI like sorrow as a bird, singing,hardy as a cactus... a beautiful image.
ReplyDeleteThis is so visual...there're so many wonderfully expressive images but this one I loved too, "
ReplyDeleteThe train track greases by river bend
Gentle as slow butterfly
But nothing moves you, not a flicker
Sorrow is a bird"
Gorgeous work...thank you for the challenge, Grace!
"Everyone shies away from your shadow"..a lonely soul with the dead-stone eyes is truly sorrow personified...a very vivid portrayal Grace..
ReplyDeleteThis is a great poem, Grace. The point of view you adopted works very well and we too are outsider witness to this man's grief. Very powerful imagery, particularly the closing line.
ReplyDeleteThis poem flows so eloquently, it should be a song. I feel like singing it as I read it.
ReplyDeleteThis left me in a state of deep awe, felt the pain you wished to share, felt it hit hard on my heart. Sorrow is indeed a bird, a bird which we wish to shoot down before it spread.
ReplyDeletethis is deep! loved reading.
ReplyDelete"I wonder at the sound of your voice?
ReplyDeleteLoud as gunfire?
Or soft pebble falling in rain?"
I, too, mind talk into the mystery. I''m tempted by the grey braids to say this man is native American, and that touching his sorrow could burn our souls. But regardless of whom--and the maleness did surprise me--you have captured the rhythm of the train which is why I like your stanza endings cutting into the flow of the train as it slows down or speeds around greased curves. And I love heart as bird in pouch! Gorgeous witness.
that touching his sorrow could burn our souls - such an intriguing thought Susan, thanks ~ I say he was quite a stand out as he didn't seem to fit in the city streets ~
DeleteGrace such beautiful poem to such beautiful prompt.... Loved it...
ReplyDeleteBeautifully heart wrenching.
ReplyDelete' Sorrow is a bird/Hiding in your pouch..' this is a string of verbal beads that fits tightly around the neck of a portrait in blue, ringed with the gemstones of image. Lovely writing, Grace, and thanks again for the introduction to Alegria.
ReplyDeleteastounding write, i journeyed with you, oh my gosh this is so vivid. Have a nice Sunday
ReplyDeletemuch love...
Your words flowed with such intense feeling, it inspired my own creation of her lovely beginnings, expressed through healing poems.
ReplyDeleteThe train track greases by river bend
ReplyDeleteGentle as slow butterfly
But nothing moves you, not a flicker
Sorrow is a bird
Hiding in your pouch
Too long, it has not flown
Too long, it has not eaten
Yet it sings, hardy as cactus
You are amazing Grace!!!
Excellent writing! Bravo!
ReplyDeleteZQ
Such storytelling here...esp. I like comparison the bird with sorrow....and nice framing here: the train...enjoyed the reading your poem, Grace :)x
ReplyDeleteWow, great character sketch. I really like:
ReplyDelete"Sorrow is a bird
Hiding in your pouch"
and:
"I wonder what grief
has torn your eyes to silt & mortar?
I wonder at the sound of your voice?
Loud as gunfire?
Or soft pebble falling in rain?"
Sorrow is a bird. Grace your talent always amazes me. I love your choice of words and your imagination. Though you haven't experienced this first hand, you know what sorrow is, what loss is, and you picture it so well for us. What a lovely poem.
ReplyDeleteThis is excellent work, Grace. You have shown such empathy in your description of the old man. There is evidence of your source of inspiration, but the poem rings with your own voice and social awareness. The imagery comparing sorrow to a bird was masterfully handled.
ReplyDeleteYou have captured sorrow on a lonely train going where I wonder??? I have felt sorrow so deep I wondered about tomorrow..
ReplyDeleteWonderfully vivid and lyrical==I agree that the line of the bird in the pouch was a particularly compelling trope--agh-very sad. Thanks. k.
ReplyDeleteGrace , a powerful and poignant poem - filled with stunning and heartbreaking images - loved the sorrow is a bird - just very moved by this - K
ReplyDeleteSorrow is a bird but still he sings, like the way you put that Grace
ReplyDelete"... I wonder what grief
ReplyDeletehas torn your eyes to silt & mortar?
I wonder at the sound of your voice?
Loud as gunfire?
Or soft pebble falling in rain?"
You have a poetic voice that seems made for drawing images, both beautiful and beautifully melancholy.
Your poetry breathes enough empathy to cloak one thousand chilling sorrows.
ReplyDeleteI love the image of sorrow as a bird. Your poem is poignant and lovely.
ReplyDeleteyou have the poet's skill to pen that which you've not personally held, Grace ~
ReplyDeleteSo evocative - the words, the image and the images the words conjure.
ReplyDeleteAwesome poetry, Grace. I felt as though I was there, in his presence too.
ReplyDeleteYes, you've captured sorrow as your own. Yes, you can see it, it is everywhere....for everywhere someone is dying, someone's someone....
ReplyDeleteOh, you are a sensitive, felling person. I like you poem!
ReplyDeleteHugs
JetteMajken
One has to accept sorrow as a sad ingredient in life! Accepting it makes it less painful. Great write Grace!
ReplyDeleteHank