December

With every year that she draws to its grave
she dies more than she lived days on this earth.
The force of life, at times a tidal wave,
that threw her further away from her birth,
now pulls her back, giving her a new start.

She digs a hole to burry this year
in letters she couldn’t sent, and a card
to her lover. He will never be near
more than he was alive, in her heart.
The year is done and the grave is covered.

Advertisements

Comments on: "December" (7)

  1. Very nice poem Ina. I lost my daughter earlier this year and your poem resonated with me the memories of her. Thanks for the warmth.

    • That is so sad, Walter, I am very sorry for your loss. It must have been a difficult time for you.

      Thank you very much for your comment. Take care!

  2. Hi Ina,

    This poem, for me, has a positive and negative feel.

    I didn’t think I would arrive at this December quite so debilitated as I am with the MS. Having said that, I have made such progress in other ways and have met so many lovely people (you!!) that I can bury this December and look forward to the fresh green shoots of the coming year.

    Love and hugs

    Christine xx

  3. ‘The force of life, at times a tidal wave,
    that threw her further away from her birth,
    now pulls her back, giving her a new start.’

    I love the action in this, the push and pull…

    I really relate to the last stanza…I love the acceptance in it…that neither the joys nor regrets of one year will hold back another.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: