Totem

[Colm Roe]

Headstones acre land 
in useless chronicles,
individual names and dates
inform nothing.

Tall stone memorials
stretch and strain above graves
already resigned
to hold fast. 

Gravity files their bones
in dark, moist nurtures 
and all the while 
what's left of what they were
settles and shifts.

A totem for me, after I'm burnt. 
Paint and carve on soft wood
my village, and if I was worthy
on some small corner
just a trace of me.

It won't last, will fall to 
a found piece
and ignite a future fire.
  
 

[Tracy Mitchell]

I am very taken with this poem, Colm.  The somber, reflective tone is compelling.  Yes, headstones used to be the only written family record, but as the speaker says, now inform nothing.  S.3 blows me away.  I can almost hear Richard Burton.  I wonder if the last stanza adds - it certainly would be a different poem without it.
Marvelous writing, Colm.

T

 

[Matty11]

Like it Colm. The final stanza looks to the future rather than clings to the past and therefore adds to the poem for me.

best

Phil

[Tracy Mitchell]

Good point, Phil.
 

[Sharon Leigh]

A quiet contemplation, beautiful in its calm acceptance. There is no raging against here, but a resigned nod. Love the poem as is, Colm.