March 2022
Author's Note: This poem from Threnody determined the path of the collection. Sometimes grief needs a formal structure to contain its enormous disorienting power. This poem was the key that opened the door to grief’s chamber.
Many Bottoms in the Basket of Despair
There are many bottoms in the basket of despair as many as sparrows dropping (no end in sight) from the wide and deep blue air. And who among us even dare to notice what lies sleeping right beneath us in the basket of despair? Remember the old dog, her shedding hair, the endless sweeping, (day and night) as if cleaning also cleared the air. I’ve traveled backroads leading God knows where without a roadmap, compass, or beam of light. There are many blind spots in the carriage of despair. Once, on a riverbank I thought I’d lost you, aware of what might swipe you from my watchful sight, I feared you swallowed by the wide and deep blue air. I’m marking time now, trying just to bear nightmare days and sleepless nights lying with the boarders in the casket of despair uncountable as dust motes in the wide and deep blue air.
First published in Sheila-Na-Gig
©2022 Donna Hilbert
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to say what it is about the poem you like. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL