family
mom, dad, son
me, last born
they waited nine years for me
now they wait again
mist hovers
floats above their graves
hushes sounds
muffles grief
head bowed, I know they miss me
I whisper, not yet
A shadorma written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Amaya is our host today and explains that a shadorma is a syllabic poem consisting of six-line stanzas, each stanza defined in lines of 3-5-3-3-7-5 syllables. She asks us to be motivated by the title of the form and perhaps write about “fog, the paranormal, or the unexplained phenomena of death and life. ” I’ve also posted a second shadorma, Bermuda Beautiful. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
I liked the waiting again in the first stanza.
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“I whisper, not yet” are five syllables that say so much about our attachment to life and a sense that there is always just one more thing to accomplish here, even when our loved ones have all gone before us and are waiting. And you set up that last line well with the ominous atmosphere.
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The second stanza in particular places me there right on the edge of the grave.. how wonderful and sorrowful…
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Well done!
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How terribly sad….that waiting and that sorrow.
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I am the only one left in my family. My brother was 9 years older than me and sadly suddenly died at only 51.
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That is a like in support. Much love to you. XXXXX
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Sad, and well said.
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Thank you, Beckie.
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LOVE that ending – such hope
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I love how they waited nine years for you and now they wait again!! A great twist on this prompt!
Dwight
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Oh dear..this made me shudder a bit.
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NIcely done!
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Clever, teased out ending.
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Marvelous tribute.. 🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
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Poignant image–the missing and the whispering not yet.
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Poignant, and so full of pathos!
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You’ve said so much here in so few lines. My parents and grandparents are all gone. I felt this poem deeply.
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