Wednesday, November 19, 2014


Since the month of November is always full of ghosts for me and my family, I found this poem especially evocative of missing those who have gone before...

To One Dead

Maxwell Bodenheim
I walked upon a hill
And the wind, made solemnly drunk with your presence,
Reeled against me.
I stooped to question a flower,
And you floated between my fingers and the petals,
Tying them together.
I severed a leaf from its tree
And a water-drop in the green flagon
Cupped a hunted bit of your smile.
All things about me were steeped in your remembrance
And shivering as they tried to tell me of it.


Autumn Leaves said...

Not a fan of poetry, generally, but I sure like this one. It whispers...

Carol Flatt said...

Beautiful, Rhonda. And perfect.

Barb Sailor said...

"Hauntingly beautiful!"

RH Carpenter said...

Yes, a haunting poem - beautiful. I couldn't resist when I read it. Could be for one gone from this life - or just one gone from your life...we all have people we miss.

Debbie Nolan said...

Dear Rhonda - this is a lovely poem. I am sorry that this month is full of Ghosts. I think we all have them at certain times of the year but especially at holidays they are closer. Hope you take care my friend. Hugs

Alice Jo Webb said...

Thank you for sharing. This is so evocative and perfect for a cold autumn day.

RH Carpenter said...

Thanks, Debbie. We miss those who have gone before, no matter how many years or decades it's been since they passed. I guess that is the real legacy of a person - not the awards and accolades or fame - but the remembrance, always, of their loved ones.

Thanks, Alice Jo. I think some poems paint pictures in our minds and this one does.