I wrote this poem early, meaning I wrote it almost as soon as I saw the prompt. I put it away, like a good little girl-poet and only pulled it back out today to post it to the We Write Poems site, which is where I am about to post a link.
I discovered - WOW! I like what I wrote! ^giggles^ I hope you enjoy it as well.
Celebrating solitude and the fullness of silence
Papers and paintings and a whirring fan, too distant
I am in an empty cathedral
Once a home for a dining table
Where I sat, waiting on an autumn night
For costumed visitors, expecting candy
in exchange for knocking
My baby who wasn’t costumed,
who wasn’t breathing,
knocked on my heart
Tiny flower sprayed casket lived
Forever in my chest that year
Thick dank clouds hovered
My shoes were worn out from wandering
From Labor Day to Memorial Day
I can not write like Emily Dickinson does
Your head is in tact, so this is not a poem
I wore patent leather heels, black, with a bow
I prayed he would look at me, really see me
That night in Puerta Vallarta, where I will never
Choose to go again
Julie this is heartbreaking and so well written
I love Puerta Vallarta what a beautiful place!
Pamela
Posted by: pamela | July 07, 2010 at 09:17 AM
It is a nice feeling, isn't it, when you look at a poem you wrote and find you like it! I like your poem too. You worked well with the prompt, and, as Pamela said, it IS heartbreaking.
Posted by: Mary | July 07, 2010 at 10:45 AM
You conjured Emily Dickinson for me. I saw her/you in black patent heels and a bow. Poignant, breathtaking--you made me gasp. Thank you for sharing this deep piece.
Posted by: brenda w | July 07, 2010 at 01:06 PM
Julie, this seemingly light poem, with its images of costumed trick or treating children, dives deeply into your heart with the "tiny, flower-sprayed casket." The heart of a woman, a mother is so opened for the reader, the inner sanctum, showing one side and another, leading to a surprise ending in a resort town of vacation happiness, the mere name breathes of romance. Yet your poem once again startles with its story. Exquisitely written, revealing the Heart, and its pain of the past that haunts now and then.
Posted by: Mollie | July 07, 2010 at 02:25 PM
Black patent heels walking is a strong image Julie, that said a lot. The last three lines are 'wow'.
Posted by: irene | July 07, 2010 at 03:52 PM
I loved all the places this poem took me. I have really enjoyed Puerto Vallarta. I am sad about the baby.
http://troublebeingstrong.blogspot.com/2010/07/premonition.html
Posted by: Diane | July 07, 2010 at 06:08 PM
Great, atmospheric piece, full of haunting images.
Posted by: Stan Ski | July 07, 2010 at 09:23 PM
Such a poignant piece, Julie, with beautiful words.
Posted by: Derrick | July 08, 2010 at 05:48 AM
lovely work
evocative
Posted by: barbara | July 08, 2010 at 08:22 PM