Night came
Like a cover of velvet
To soothe my wounded soul.
The demerol, given miles & hours back,
Was supposed to help
But it didn't dull my emotions
For I cried deeply right afterward,
And again on the bus coming home.
A woman's body
Is a beautiful and wise thing.
Delicate, yet powerful.
It clung so fiercely
And cramped so desperately
To hold onto what was its own
What was part of me, too.
I know it felt happy and complete
When it held that promise.
But now it can do nothing
But bleed in sorrow
While I weep with memories,
Thoughts of what could have been,
And something frighteningly akin to regret.
'Night came, Like a cover of velvet To soothe my wounded soul' That manner of expression can only come from an illuminated poetic soul The narrative reproduces the deepest sorrow, and you can feel it all. An unforgettable, very deep cry, in poetic form.
This was a very hard poem to write. I almost hesitated to post it on this site. But I think it may be something many women can relate to (although we wish we didn't have to relate to it!) Hope it wasn't too depressing to read.
It is a nice poem on grief and regreat. Well depicted. Thanks for sharing. .... ...10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very powerful poem. There is some ambiguity. Has this woman endured a stillbirth, a hysterectomy or an abortion? I think the ambiguity is good. For any of these losses the woman has had a great lost of part of what makes her a woman. I read below that your were reluctant to post but my opinion is that emotionally powerful and honest poetry is often the best we can do. Glad you posted.
Thank you for this, Barry. Your insights are very helpful. I am learning that some ambiguity is desirable in poetry. If you clarify EVERYTHING, you run the risk of ruining it for other imaginative readers.