packing
my blue bag
pocketing
my lipstick
turning my back
to Brentwood
I’m on my way home.
Brooklyn beckons
as it always did
as it always does
Hudson River
city parks
a cacophony of languages
a melting pot
She’s on her way too.
by air
not track
her trunk
packed
by strangers
shipped
light
with flip-flops
a blouse
a skirt
poor
practical
that would be her
Occasionally I’d seen her laugh.
I’m
on my way
train grumbling
wheels screeching
town
upon town
Flatbush- a hub
and my stop
and there was my aunt
and there was my mother
and there was the news
Teresa Margaret
is on her way home
shipped
from Florida
on a DC10
stored
along with her trunk
a girl in a wooden box
in a cargo hold
a poor cold girl
Colder bullet in her head.
© 2017, poem, Jamie Dedes; photo courtesy of Linda Allardice, Public Domain Pictures.net.
Thank you for sharing the beauty and inspiration:
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
The focus of "The BeZine," a publication of The Bardo Group Beguines, is on sacred space (common ground) as it is expressed through the arts. Our work covers a range of topics: spirituality, life, death, personal experience, culture, current events, history, art, and photography and film. We share work here that is representative of universal human values however differently they might be expressed in our varied religions and cultures. We feel that our art and our Internet-facilitated social connection offer a means to see one another in our simple humanity, as brothers and sisters, and not as “other.” This is a space where we hope you’ll delight in learning how much you have in common with “other” peoples. We hope that your visits here will help you to love (respect) not fear. For more see our Info/Mission Statement Page.
View All Posts
The BeZine 
Very powerful
LikeLike
Heartbreakingly beautiful, Jamie. This was a five tissue poem. The pain of the death of a loved one never fully dissipates. My heart is reaching out to yours. Thank you for sharing so eloquently. ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’ve said so much in this piece. Anyone who has experienced the pain of losing someone close will be able to read the sorrow between the lines. It’s a somewhat surreal experience, even so many years later; it can be hard to process and you never ‘get over it’, it just becomes a part of who you are. I’m so very sorry for your loss, Jamie. It changes a person.
LikeLiked by 1 person