Grief is a leaf

grief is a leaf poem
photoart & poem ©Laura Granby 2017

I’m not sure I can howl
though certainly there are dread events
disembowling enough to summon a Munch scream
Lord please spare me that

horror piles up in numbers
dates, head counts, ages
and then little by little the faces appear
life-like captures that froze time into a smile
en famille, festive fun, ignorant of what is to come

what terms then can we come to?
to make peace with the unfathomable?
a pact with the devil?
Lord please spare us that

dare I say grief is akin to an October leaf?
a brisk detachment when the wind lets loose
that sudden and brutal impact with earth
the stalk forever reaching back

now multiply that in knee-deep leaf litter
are we any wiser in comprehension?
are we any closer to each other?

Magaly @ the Imaginary Garden asks us to ‘howl our poetry into my bones’ for the Tuesday Platform.  With yesterday’s mass murderous events in Las Vegas at the forefront of our minds, I cannot help but confront the event in my own way here

24 Comments on “Grief is a leaf

  1. Cut to the bone, indeed. You have caught the sense of horror that makes us howl inside and out.


    • thank you Tish – usually I say nothing as it can feel like a bit of an impertinence to speak of other people’s grief and horror – here I trod as carefully as I could

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Grief is, indeed, an autumn leaf–and there are so many kinds of leaves falling… It’s one of things that makes this world wonderful, I think. That we are so different from each other, and that so many of us can still write (live) together. Howling is not for everyone, neither is quiet. But… we can always meet in the middle, if we want.


  3. Grief an autumn life… a perfect metaphor… Reminds me of Thomas Tranströmer who wrote in After a death wrote about grief

    They resemble pages torn from old telephone directories.
    Names swallowed by the cold.

    I think your poem gives the same feeling (especially when leaves pile up)


  4. There comes a time when one runs out of reactions; it’s all so overwhelming. I seem to have reached that – perhaps not permanently. You have found a beautiful way to express grIef and horror.


    • thank you for your appreciation – usually I do not ‘engage’ in world events as they are either too awful or complex but prompt and timing came together


  5. What can we do in the face of nameless annihilation but wither? Natural devastations we can weather — storm survivors bury and build back — but purely human evil makes us recoil at our own existence. Keenly felt and written here.


    • thank you for that Brendan – am somewhat relieved that the feelings came through as words can be meaningless or too detached – it’s not an easy line to tread


  6. I personally think no closer, no wiser, more detached and vacant. Perhaps that is what begets the carnage. What a nightmare. Thank you for your poem.


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