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A Poem by h d e rushin

When you died,
me and Curtis hurried to your bedside and
resentfully waited until you grew cold and uncomfortable.
Until your eyelids stayed down on
their own like
squeezed out Sun Kist juice boxes.
That after several hours
had decided to turn you spring colors,
carefully plodding your
pours for the second rate botflies
to utter and growl
and find fault with the early phases of
death.
But poems without titles need
drudge and graves; stumps and roots.
Toil and humility. Enterprise and face down
mourners. (It's  not enough to point @
and be dangerously out of pain.) Stakes
in the ground and machinery for pulling
our reluctant memory along. That
countenance will do us, barely alive,
just fine. 

© 2021 h d e rushin


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Reviews

You are a master craftsman. This is beyond. Quiet and austere and rattles with grief that can't be expressed yet.

Posted 2 Months Ago


h d e rushin

2 Months Ago

thank you dearest and happy belated Easter Sunday....dana
This is good writing and I don't want to run the risk of damning with faint praise the lines foregoing of the last nine, but damn! the last nine were superb. Amazing construction, congratulations.

Posted 3 Months Ago


h d e rushin

3 Months Ago

thank you my friend for your kind remarks....dana
reminds me of losing a parent...the eyelids finally stay down on their own...but even as the body grows cold, they remain alive to us...
and long after they are in the ground, they are alive in our memory....and sometimes rather than that being a comfort, it can scare us, haunt us...make us want to shut those eyes again, so that they cannot
eternally watch us.
j.

Posted 3 Months Ago


h d e rushin

3 Months Ago

i've been there of course. in fact we hold them in our hearts each hour. Thank you my friend....dana
I usually hide During the Ides of March, but it finds us anyway, I was at a funeral today and on the way home as if on cue the crepe Myrtles had all bloomed in white, pinks, and purples that I didn't see on the way to the church and it was over an hours drive to get to it, yet on the way back the colors were everywhere. You know I don't lie.
Particularly meaningful for me today: "Until your eyelids stayed down on
their own like
squeezed out Sun Kist juice boxes.
That after several hours
had decided to turn you spring colors,"

Posted 3 Months Ago


h d e rushin

3 Months Ago

i know you live in Texas...(somewhere that i have never been) and I know that seasons changing for u.. read more

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Added on March 13, 2021
Last Updated on March 13, 2021

Author

h d e rushin
h d e rushin

detroit, MI



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black american poet living in detroit. more..

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A Poem by h d e rushin



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