Adieu, Ma Chère Amie
A Triolet for Viv
Summer is like a fragile bird—
her beauty fills our world with bliss,
her song surpasses spoken word.
Summer is like a fragile bird—
too soon she falls, no longer heard.
Her soul takes flight from this abyss.
Summer is like a fragile bird.
A poet falls, her presence missed.
I struggled with this poem that I’m linking to Poetic Bloomings Day 6. Both the form and the topic stretched me. We were asked to do a summer simile using the Triolet form. Yesterday morning, I learned of the loss of Viv Blake, a poet well-known to many of us, and well-loved by myself…both of us in our senior years and she lived in Normandy, whereas, years ago, I, in Brittany–next door neighbors, so to speak. The irony in this poem is that, if I remember correctly, Viv tossed out Triolets with ease. I never found that form or the Villanelle easy to write. Give me a Sestina any day!
God speed, lovely lady, and thank you for blessing my life.
On a whim, I’m adding Mr. Linky, in case anyone would like to add their tribute to Viv…poetry or prose.