Surroundings

This poem begins ominously, but overall has a positive message. In it, I chart the path of the survivor, from grief to acceptance to rejoicing.

Death, especially the death of one close to us, has a way of taking us with it, of surrounding us with all its gloomy trappings, well before our own appointed time. By wading well into that dismal fog, so that all else fades into nothingness, we can, with persistence, at last reach the other side, where joy and purpose reside. We never quite leave our grief–or it never leaves us–but it lives contentedly in the background, like a house ghost, rather than confronting us daily with its torments. Respecting the dead means appreciating that gift of life, which, much too soon, was wrestled from their weary grasp.

Thanks for coming by to read!

Let Death surround me.

Fitting me up

For a grim waistcoat.

Taking my specifications.

Let Death surround me.

Powder my face

With the dust off the shelf.

Render me mutely immobile.

Let Life surround me.

Fruit on the counter,

Fecund and round.

Dripping with lush expectation.

Let Life surround me.

Muscular bodies.

Clear, supple skin.

Pedestrian sweat on the sidewalk.

Let Love surround me.

Words off the page,

Thundering passion,

Drawing me, pulling me near you.

Let Love surround me.

Plump, cherub children.

Drinks among friends,

Toasting our pleasant diversions.

Let Death surround me.

Echoes of those

Who departed before me

Chasing me ever down hallways.

Let Life surround me.

Trees full of trills

And the bats sweeping down

And the breeze off the long-flowing River.

Copyright 2022 Andrea LeDew

For a poem grieving the victims of the Uvalde school shooting, read Scores.

For a poem grieving a fallen hero of the uprising at the U.S. Capitol on January 6th 2021, read The Mighty.