Lamentations for Lines and Lyrics Lost

Lamentations for Lines and Lyrics Lost

Expressing the decades, my poems defined me,
Birthing each one and clutching them to my breast,
My offspring, the essence of my being,
Encoded with my poetic DNA, my soul,
Never allowing them to venture out of sight,

So many darlings I recall from elementary years,
Later the “wonder why” rebels
From high school and college: sheer wonder,
And expressions of loss, love, and triumph:
“Ode to the Walrus,” “Oquin’s Stoplight,”
The Wordsworth inspired, “Indeed Simplicity,”
“Recollections from Garage Sale Remnants,”
And of course, the one about sniper shootings,

Now, many have grown and taken flight,
But sadly, some misladen, missing, with no hope of return,
No recognition from milk carton photos,
Were some destined for the garbage heap,
To be incinerated, cremated, ashes to the wind?
Or perhaps to drift out to sea?

Then there were those who were miscarried,
Beautiful and brilliant in conception,
But were never carried to term,
Still, I think of them,
Still, I long for them,

All, reflections of me,
Or --- am I a reflection of them?
If only they could return, oh what a sweet reunion!
Then, perhaps I would know,
I would recognize them at once,
But --- would they recognize me?



(Only my muse can say,
And she is bound by the confidentiality
Of my fractured memory.)




~ Elissa Fink