Greener fields of May…


The November snow
dusted the pines like
powdered sugar

Her feet, cold
standing on the frozen hillside
wrapped tight in the frigid air
like a chain of razor blades

the wind dipped
the frosted crowns
of the trees
these, mourners at a funeral

and of course
the arboreal denizens
of these blue rocky hills would
attend him

gathered now
round a hollow hole
picked out of the frozen earth
by brawn and grit

of men like he was
brothers of the mountain
hard skinned
and broken-backed

The icy breeze
turns over the silver strands
hanging loose
about her shivering shoulders

she closes her eyes
and remembers how
his knotted fingers and bruised knuckles
would stir the very same strands

When they were a deep brown
like his eyes
reflecting back her smile
on days in a cold mountain creek

beneath pine cones
and sugar maples
stolen places where cold bodies
could congeal together

on sun-soaked ancient boulders
from deep within the mountain’s heart
brought to the sun
by time and rain

like these pink
mountain azaleas
that now fall to rest
upon the casket in the shadows below

and thinking of him
on front porch twilight evenings
listening to whip-poor-wills
and remembering the greener fields

of May


About Eric

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18 Responses to Greener fields of May…

  1. Rita says:

    Ohhh, you’ve captured the exact vision I have of our ending. This one goes on my wall. Love it, Brother ❤ (side note: his eyes are deep brown and he came to be in May!)

  2. Eric says:

    Thank you, Vic. It has a sadness to it, yes. But I’m glad you found the peace in it too. ❤

  3. Meg Sorick says:

    You know the Hozier song “in a Week” – about decomposing bodies in a field of flowers? It has that feel to it. I love it, Eric. It’s beautiful and final and eternal. ❤

  4. thefeatheredsleep says:

    GOOD GRIEF! How do you pluck out a world and pour yourself into it and offer it to us with seemingly little effort as if writing were IN YOUR BLOOD? You have such a river of detail to your worlds that causes me to stay in your words long after reading them. THAT is a sign of a memorable and gifted writer. I was reading some ‘classics’ today and I thought of your work and always do because it’s like you are from 1700 not today, (and that is a very, very good thing when it comes to writing!). Just LOVED this and I’m a sucker for sadness and beauty.

  5. So beautiful. I can’t come up with anything more original to say… it’s just beautiful. And what Meg said, too.

  6. How penciling romantic

  7. Heartafire says:

    You’re a fantastic poet and writer Eric!

  8. I’ve been away from the blogosphere for a spell and seriously forgot how amazing your poetry is. Okay, no, I didn’t. 😉 I’m just struck by your gorgeous imagery.

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