Karen I think of you
pretending I know what your face looks like
ashen and sun-lit that day his plane
did not reach its destination
you knew
in that instinctive way
the weigh and measure of
incalculable things
felt twisted in our gut
like a wrung towel
retaining pressure
he was a man of air and Africa
the painted land
reaching like a hennaed bride
across plain and prairie
you can smell freedom
where we all began
born of clay and rain
growing to the rhythm of
dovetail butterflies gathering
their meal of date palm and black mangrove
yellowwood and senegalia groves leading
the mosaic paths of animals
honey bees and cicadas
drone air with song of nectar and molting
impala with their great dipped ink horns
slender heat parched bodies eyeing crest
for hyena or aardwolf staring predator
while sable antelope merge
their burgundy brown into
baked fecund earth
staring at skies for sign of rain
as you
look upward
seeing in your minds eye
his falling plane
imagine in urgent moment
greatest pain
all the years ahead you will
be without him
is death, you wonder
more merciful than life?
capturing the heart
at its perfect balance
where like a flower
you can stoop to preserve
its potency
no mind
it is the prayer of days ahead
rigid and unmoving in their sorrow
where you hold your face expressionless
howling in your mirror when all have left
and the monkey chatter
the smell of him everywhere
talking ghosts of touch, reaching, reaching out
you pretend, you submerge in that
twilight of denial and mad hope
staying long after death, the last visitor to leave
the funeral
TheFeatheredSleep 
I love the language used here, the tone and rhythm too:
“howling in your mirror when all have left
and the monkey chatter
the smell of him everywhere
talking ghosts of touch, reaching, reaching out
you pretend, you submerge in that
twilight of denial and mad hope
staying long after death, the last visitor to leave
the funeral”
This is beautiful language, so perfectly touching.
Beautifully encapsulated, and yes I do sometimes wonder…..
“all the years ahead you will
be without him
is death, you wonder
more merciful than life?”
What a heart rending capture of grief.
Exquisitely captured.
I watched that movie only once. I couldn’t bring myself to watch it again, so heart wrenching.
You’ve captured so much in this. As usual!🌸
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
TheFeatheredSleep captures a story in poetry.
One of my favourite movies and I so identify with the Robert Redford character as Karen tries to lay her claims upon his soul and its need for absence, freedom and flight. This is a wonderful imaging of her journey from inside the heart of your own heart. The movie must have really resonated for you. The ending undoes me ever single time ❤
A heart-rending poem about the demise of the lover of Karen von Blixen ( I hope I have the name correct)
So beautifully done
Me too!! Slays me. Thank you so much my friend. I agree it is all about that wonder of freedom.
So very well done!
A beautiful poem, Candice.
A compliment from you means everything
You are a true blessing
Love this, Shieldmaiden. ❤
Slayed me, I love the tone of this. It was transporting, and wrenching.
I love this comment thank you and I also love ‘slayed me’ that’s my favorite term so you are in good company and I am too
Decadent with a modernist twist…brilliant.
I love Blixen… particularly Seven Gothic Tales…a lovely imaging here Feather
Thank you dear one. I love her also. Very much. Incredible writer. My favorite are her short stories also.
That was an interesting poem.
I like this poem.
You can check out my poems at http://trizing.com