Sorrow is my own yard
where the new grass
flames as it has flamed
often before but not
with the cold fire
that closes round me this year.
Thirtyfive years
I lived with my husband.
The plumtree is white today
with masses of flowers.
Masses of flowers
load the cherry branches
and color some bushes
yellow and some red
but the grief in my heart
is stronger than they
for though they were my joy
formerly, today I notice them
and turn away forgetting.
Today my son told me
that in the meadows,
at the edge of the heavy woods
in the distance, he saw
trees of white flowers.
I feel that I would like
to go there
and fall into those flowers
and sink into the marsh near them.
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Comments
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sweet
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The extremes...passion and memory, love and loss brings us to an edge of emotions, and the world around us can amplify so many feelings...remembrance and imagination...remarkable imagery here...PK
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This is an excellent piece. The way Williams wove the words together, speaking as a widow, remembering thoughts said by a son and visualising it all to create this emotional heartfelt/heartbreaking piece.
Just an excellent piece Williams has written her and very much applaudable.
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