Dredging

on a day when grief
felt weighted
like lead in walking shoes
when there was no relief

would you understand
why those last few grains
of cremated remains

texture sharp as rough sand
found their way
to forehead and cheeks

ceremoniously dredging
the basement depths
of my most inner chambers
of sorrow

Reviews

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

We all mourn loss differently, and yet no emotional experience is more universal than sorrow. Of course love is its sister I would dare to surmise. Both opposing twins that tug and pull upon our hearts from birth to death. We aspire to love in life greater and mourn just as equal. Because nothing exhibits one's adoration more so for the objects of our affection than when we have lost them. It is what defines our humanity. CLE

[Chris Shaw]

Dear Carlos, so pleased you stopped by to share your thoughts. You are very much appreciated. Have a good Tuesday.

[wu]

The 'like led in walking shoes' hit me hard, in a good way. For me there's a contrast in that line where the sorrow of a death can hinder the daily routine. Maybe since I start each day walking for better health with the hope of postponing my own demise. Who knows? No matter, I enjoyed this piece and salute your use of 'lowercase' to set a subdued tone.

[Chris Shaw]

Many thanks for stopping by and sharing your thoughts. Pleased you enjoyed the read. All the best.

Chris

[Wondering Mind]

Oh my goodness...
This is why I love poetry and poetic expression.
Nicely done!

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Wandering Mind for your review. I appreciate you.

Chris

[Gaia Octavia]

I loved this. Universal and yet still subjective enough to allow the reader to connect deeply with it. It really carried the longing we feel for our loved ones who have passed.
The line "texture sharp as rough sand" evokes impeccable imagery. Well done!

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you so much Gaia for stopping by and leaving your thoughts. You are appreciated.

read moreThank you so much Gaia for stopping by and leaving your thoughts. You are appreciated.

Chris

[William Michael Reeves]

A deep look into the urn. Somewhere I think we all fear to really go. Pretty on the outside but holds the ashes of memory and love. And we want to spread the grains of life, but it gets a little messy if the wind of grief blows our loving intention right back in our face. I'm probably not the only one to be a little frightened by the ashes of our lost loves.

[Chris Shaw]

I am not frightened by the ashes of departed love ones. They bring comfort. Yes it is important to know the wind direction before scattering a loved one’s ashes. They can blow back into your face. Not pleasant, I imagine. Thank you Bill for another review. Where have you been lately?

[William Michael Reeves]

Hi Chris. Life eclipsed poetry for quite awhile. Trying to find my way back to the cafe and catch up with everybody. I have a bunch of poems to post which I'll be doing next week after I manage to see what's been going on here where words are the brew served so freely. Glad to see you've been writing, and please, if you wrote something in particular you feel strongly about tell me which one. I can't possibly read everything. Glad to be back and thanks for asking.

[Chris Shaw]

Pleased to have you back Bill. Look forward to reviewing your new poems. Thanks for the offer. I’ll let you know if there’s any one poem in particular I’d like you to look at.

[Jon Mahaffie]

I like the contrast between the dull, heavy, numb feeling grief usually hits you with at some stage in the grieving process, and the specific sharp and rough ash that was passed along for people to put on their face here. I also enjoyed the word "dredging" in the last stanza, which reminds me of excavation, construction sites and rebuilding of decrepit/sad properties and buildings. Seems to be what a good cry or cathartic release does for us, emotionally.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you so much Jon. Dredging the pit of my soul. That’s how I felt on this particular day. Rock bottom.

[Lorry]

Grief is the strangest thing. No one can put an expiry date on it and it can catch us out with the simplest fleeting memory or quiet moment of reflection.
Missing those gone is ingrained within us (I still miss my grandpa and he passed away when I was 8!)
With him, it is the smell of a pie that sets me off, although I love the smell and memory. So many sounds and smells do the same or any other number of things. It may just be a reminder that we are all just human.

[Chris Shaw]

Thanks Lorry, I can’t disagree with anything you say. Grief is strange and you never know when it will pay you a visit. Isn’t it peculiar how smells can transport you back in time, sounds too. Mint sauce always transports me back as well as imperial leather soap. Hope your day has been good.

[Lorry]

Meant pipe, not pie. But I do like a steak pie too 😊

[Chris Shaw]

I imagined your grandpa being partial to apple pie. A pipe makes more sense :)

[Lorry]

Don't ever remember seeing him smoke a pie. 😊

[Cherrie Palmer]

... ancient history to some; but I must test my cheek to see if it is dry.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Cherrie and I do believe you understand the depths and despair of grief. Rock bottom. There is only one way to go. The climb upwards.

[Cherrie Palmer]

Grief is a poor companion he will steal all your time. I keep mine corked away ( most of the time).

[Shelley Warner]

I remember taking some of my husband's ashes to the Boise River, in a spot where he'd been baptized at age 19, My daughter and I walked in together, surrounded by friends and family, and opened the container. The wind caught them and spread them over the water. That's a nice memory; thank you for your poem that brought it to mind.

[Chris Shaw]

Thanks Shelley for sharing. We scattered my mum’s ashes across the Torbay sea close to Thatcher’s rock which were her last wishes. I still had a few grains left in the canister for a rainy day. I used them . I appreciate your lovely reviews.

[red93]

Beautiful beautiful Work C. You are still clearly in the stage known as 'deep mourning', not helped by the dark cold English Winter. But Spring is not far off now, and Easter - and then Pentecost, when the Souls still on Earth ascend to Heaven - and I feel sure you will know the true renewal of Jesus' Promise to the Faithful, and your Spirits will start to lift again ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Tony for your very thoughtful response. This poem was written a while back, but only just posted. I am in a better place now. Have a lovely day.

[red93]

👍👍👍👍👍

[Mauricio Montoya]

Death his nobody wait sadness is what we find, but we do cry when we want to forget
Thank you for sharing

[Chris Shaw]

Hello Mauricio, thank you for stopping by today to share your thoughts. Hope all is good with you my friend.