Lizette Woodworth Reese

(January 9, 1856 – December 17, 1935 / Waverly)

In Time Of Grief


Dark, thinned, beside the wall of stone,
The box dripped in the air;
Its odor through my house was blown
Into the chamber there.

Remote and yet distinct the scent,
The sole thing of the kind,
As though one spoke a word half meant
That left a sting behind.

I knew not Grief would go from me,
And naught of it be plain,
Except how keen the box can be
After a fall of rain.

Submitted: Saturday, December 17, 2011

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  • Colleen Courtney (5/19/2014 10:28:00 AM)

    I'm very confused by this box! First I thought coffin but that just doesn't' fit with the poem. I'm lost! (Report) Reply

  • Thomas Vaughan Jones (1/18/2014 10:52:00 AM)

    I can appreciate that the three quatrains have a rhyme scheme and a certain degree of assonance, but the application of metaphors is very obscure. What does the box signify? Why is it dripping? Where does the sting appear? These appear to be simply mundane words to fill out the verse but have no significant meaning. The poem doesn't elevate the language or create any emotion for me. (Report) Reply

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