Death Of A Spouse Poem by Paul Storm
Death Of A Spouse
A man under the bridge
Staring at cusped hands
Holding his piece of the river
Seeping slowly through
I salute him
He fakes a grin
Returns to his contemplation
Lost in my incomprehension
Curiosity killing me
With each drop
Forcing the question
To the meaning of this
A suspended moment follows emptied hands
And a soft murmur
“Water always returns to its source”
Yes indeed, I say, it certainly does
Then a story about blood, tears, sex and strong coffee
Followed by a parting wish and all the best
Though those words still remain
Whenever I cusp my hands to drink
The wisdom of water nom? ....Great, I really, really like this!
How strange that the words of a chance met stranger you may never see again lodge themselves indelibly in your mind.I wonder if he remebers you
I HAVE TROUBLE UNDERSTANDING THIS BUT THE PARTS THAT I DO MAKE THIS POEM AMAZING
its amazing how simple words can remain fixed in our mind and when we do something that memory rushes back to us in a blink of the eye Simply amazing
nice...(thats all that i want to comment but PH doesnot let me comment in less that 20 words, funny: -))
Excellent piece of contemplation and great application of metaphor. I really enjoyed this and also can appreciate the sentiment. One question though, did you mean 'cupped' rather than 'cusped'? The latter refers to an object having pointed tips
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/14/2024 2:45:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
this is just breathtaking..amazing