Carrion Poem by Lynn W. Petty
Carrion
Her children were segregating her belongings
Into two heaps, 'Litter' and 'Cash.'
She had died two days before, and they were tearing
At the carrion of her being.
From a stack of papers in her son's hands,
Several pages had blown into the shrubs.
He had not bothered to pick them up.
Unable to lift himself higher than his character could arouse,
He threw her collection of old love letters, verse and journals,
Into the trash bin. As he discarded the treasure of her thoughts,
I gathered three poems from beneath the bush.
Reading the last lines from one:
'Forget, if you can
All the dreams we began,
I really had a lovely time.'
And, the lid slammed shut.
Ouch! This sounds like a true story, but I hope it isn't. This line hurt the most: He threw her collection of old love letters, verse and journals, Into the trash bin. What a tragic loss! Those things are worth more than anything else she could have owned. A great poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 4:06:28 AM # 1.0.0.1119
well, to HER they may have been priceless, but i don't fault the son. why should our children, spouses, friends, etc. be 'forced' or 'shamed into feigning interest in things the 'departed' (or not dead yet) are/were interested in? ? i love birds. my friend Cary loves old cars. we each listen to the other (for a while) talk of our interest, but we are aware that they are our separate interests, not everyone's interest! just to add my two cents to Kim's rather different comment. she died. get over it. hee-hee. my survivors won't have much cash to recover, AND i don't expect them to 'respect' my poems. bri ;)