She dies every year
at this time.
I'd forgotten when I phoned.

Her first weary word, dragged
waist deep through widow mud,
reminded me.

It was six winters ago
that he died but
until the thaw

you can't bury the dead.

Scott,

I really like this, I might drop the 2nd line in the last verse...it's redundant.  I'd look at that 3rd line in the 2nd verse and determine if it really should be flagging way out to the right field. 

Third verse is beautiful, I wonder if those first 2 lines are the beginning of the poem?

Just my thoughts,
Tim

I like this poem.  My intuition is telling me there's a ways to shake it a bit to it settles into a tighter form, but I odn't know what that is, yet.

thanks Tim and Rick

I could see shaking this up a bit too.
Tim is thinking (I believe) to cut down on the phone call part.
You're probably right about the second last line, Tim.
I wasn't sure if people generally realise you can't bury someone in the winter.

How about:

It was six years ago
that he died but
until the thaw

you can't bury the dead

Cheers

milner

Some beautiful poem in here, Scott. But the "mud" in L5 clashes with "you have to wait for a thaw,"  to my mind. Keep at it, it's a good one. Tom

thanks Milner and Tom


I adopted (poetry for 'stole') your more succinct idea, Milner.

I don't know if my title is a stretch. It means that she hasn't buried the past yet
and so wading through the mud kind of plays off that.

But the entire theme may be ill conceived.


I'm sure Brian will tell me if it is.

:)

Scott, wading through mud is a true symbol.  it conveys to me the slowing of a journey the feeling of being stuck, the grave.   

I think the title does resonant with the mud image.

My god, Scott...you've honed this down now to pure essence and I've read it three times already and simply want to read it again.  That 2nd verse is pure gold and I like the flip of lines you made at the end, even more potent than before.

I stand humbled.
Tim

In fact, Scott, on my fourth reading just now, I wondered why this isn't on the Editor's picks.  It is now.

Tim

thanks Tim

a wise man advised me on that last stanza
but I was wise enough to listen.

thanks Sue
It's good to have a variety of opinions
because sometimes parts of a poem
only seem to work inside my own head. 

Amazing poem, Scott.  Excellent pick.

lynn

So nice. Great work on this one. I especially like tone and irony in this two verses below:

She dies every year
at this time.
I'd forgotten when I phoned.

Her first weary word, dragged
waist deep through widow mud,
reminded me.

Something awkward in these lines below:

until the thaw

you can't bury the dead.

Jill

thanks Lynn, Silent Lotus
and Jill.

when you say awkward
I'm not sure if you mean the meaning behind the words
or something more technical.

in northern climates
you can't (or don't) bury people until spring
because the ground is frozen up to five feet deep.

I'm trying to use that as a symbol that my mother will
continually 'die' on the anniversary of my father's death
until she comes to terms with it and finds some peace.

maybe that theme isn't working well enough in the poem.
maybe it needs a little more set up
or abandon it altogether.
but that theme kind of IS the poem.

I'd be curious as to what you mean.
don't misconstrue my extended explanation
as a defence of the poem.
it's a rather new poem
so it sometimes takes time to see straight.

thanks