Artist: Borg de Nobel, all rights reserved
The Metaphor of the Elephant
in the Living Dying Room
Those final days
we spent together,
ravens peppering
the green,
green grass
outside her window…
Those elephants
exposed for what
they’d always been:
chimera of secrets held
T L
O O
O O
O O
O I O
N N
S
I
D
E
the telling made us
bleed.
Over the years,
planted
on opposite sides
of the continent
our anger
oozed
like sap from
wounded bark
like pachy-
dermic pus.
I wish I’d been there,
crawled into her bed
to hold her
when blackbirds came
to set her free.
Instead I have a memory
(a dream):
her hands touching my head.
And Butter-
flies.
Today over at dVerse Poetics Claudia Schonfeld invites us to write an Ekphrasis on the incredible artwork of Borg de Noel, a Dutch artist. One image brought to mind my sister who died at age 61 of pancreatic cancer in a period of only four weeks. I spent much of that time with her, talking about our perceptions of our difficult growing up years. We were both only 7 when our widowed parents wed. During those years my parents, well-meaning to be sure, never spoke of our deceased parents–her mother and my father. Cris sent me back home the day before she died, but came to me in a dream and laid her hands on my head (in blessing). When I received the phone call informing me of her death, I was sitting on the deck with my morning coffee. A migration of butterflies invaded the yard. As a hospice nurse, I’d witnessed apparent “event” experienced by the families of my patients. This was the first I’d encountered myself.
Even if you don’t have time to bring your own poem to the Pub, I encourage you to make it a point to stop by and read about this talented artist, and while you’re at it, taste some fine poetry.
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Victoria C. Slotto, Author 