It's just poetry, it won't bite

Transfiguration: The Blind


06.18.14 Posted in today's words by

Jenny Williamson’s work has been featured in 24Mag, Wild River Review, Poetic Voices, and Philadelphia’s Writing Aloud series. She has also received recognition from the Academy of American Poets and NPR’s Young Poets Series. This poem is a response to the painting “Transfiguration: The Blind” by Egon Schiele. Visit Jenny’s website.

Transfiguration: The Blind
By Jenny Williamson

Our death does not skulk in the doorway
Like a dubious visitor.
Instead it rises up from the ground to greet us.

See how it pools in the caverns of our cheekbones.
Takes refuge in our orbital lobes.
When at last it takes the grief from our only bones,
See how we sink down in the fields.

Take our eyes for the barleycorn.
Take our lungs for the green forests.
Take our teeth for the tax man.
Take our tongues for the cross-hatched fields.

We forget our name. We forget our face.
Our absence is an echo chamber. Do not listen for our silence.
Do not weep for us. Do not look for us.
We are already gone.

 



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