Medea's Ashes
The crowd is drawn like magnets
Drawing flecks of finely splintered steel.
They stand and stare
At smoke-choked, charred remains-
Magnificent Medea.
Her ashes slowly blow like dust
Upon Atlantic breezes
Rushing over achromatic beaches
Soon to rest on Adirondac majesty.
Death is silent still like Medea's
Ashes on the evening winds.
And in the early dusk that follows dust
One sooted shape is left;
Like a child makes an angel in the snow.
Bouquets of roses spread upon
The ground around black-sooted angel -
Aromatic, multicolored sweet bouquets,
Giving vivid dignity to death in final pose.
A tall thin man with thick white hair
Stands straight and still
Above the remnants of his queen;
He once was hero and marine
In distant wars before Medea
Stole his soul and made it whole.
The cattails cluster'd round
Medea's marbled pond
Are crying muted cries
As they bend and bow to something
Larger than their friend upon the wind.
A single night-hawk flying by
Ackowledges the cattail's cry
As it dives above narcissi trumpets waving -
Modulated bright and bulbous yellow
In the twilight's dim and faded light.
Copyright © Tom Mcmurray | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment