Infuriated, I slam doors,
unable to think, freezing him out,
refusing to discuss it.
You take a leave of absence
to be with your dying love, holding
fast, refusing even to eat.
What can I learn from you?
You have 35 years, we have ten.
I want twenty-five more
and at least a hundred after that.
What if my love lay dying? I'd wail,
scream, die myself, without a doubt.
I am so sorry for your loss.
Going to be with him now.
I was introduced to a new (to me) form called the Sevenling. Here's the description from The American Poetry Journal:
SevenlingsThis was challenging for me to write, and I'm sure it will go through more revisions, but I figured I'd post it now as maybe some of you would like to write one. Please let me know if you do. Good luck!



























A very intriguing form which I would like to try.
ReplyDeleteThe you and me of this poem is heart-breaking: the speaker's sympathy for the loss of another's beloved and fear of the same fate is palpable.
try it, kerry! this was a difficult subject in any form, plus i have four different people here, so i had to keep working on it to make it clear. er, at least i hope it's clear :) but the Sevenling is fascinating & i'm gonna try it again.
DeleteI love how stark and final the last line presents itself.
ReplyDeleteThsi was a strong piece. I had an emotional reaction too it.
bravo
I love the emotional undercurrents and poetry form. Thanks for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteI am trying this ~
thank YOU for reading. it is an interesting, and I think challenging, form.
ReplyDeleteLove the sevenling form and you do it so well. I can really feel the emotion in this poem, and the fear. I hope you have 125 more years too.
ReplyDeletesigh. i want to live forever, actually.
DeleteI did find it clear that four people were involved... This poem (and such a difficult form too!) moved me.
ReplyDeletewhew! thank you.
Deletei have these silly little poem rules that I impose on myself and then expect others to follow them for no reason. One of those rules is that I do not like to write questions in my poems. I staunchly believe the reader should be allowed to craft their own questions about the narrator, the other going on's and then explore on their own. Questions can be intrusive to a reader. The question you used here, I find an exception to my silly poem decree.
ReplyDeleteWhat can I learn from you?
Came as such a great transition to the second half of the poem it read more like a sigh than a question. Well done and viva la
hmmmmmmm. that is not one of my rules, i ask questions all the time.
Deletemaybe you would find that annoying!
thank you for coming to read and for sharing this, it's something for me to think about.
Good Goddess, Girl!
ReplyDeleteYou did it... twice! The sevenling taunts me; but you have shown that mastery is possible, so I will try. Fearful as I AM, you have offered grit. I shall give it a go; and I thank you! ;-)
oh Kim you know the pleasure is mine :)
DeleteTwice. I had hard enough time doing one. This one is raw with emotion!
ReplyDelete:) i had a hard time writing it!
ReplyDeleteThanks for steering me over here, Marian. I especially felt the final 7.
ReplyDeletesad :(
ReplyDelete