Lise Clendening Poet Cinquain

The MARK

My hand
Lingers on the page.
A red X marks the date.
Turning the page feels like losing you again—
Every day.

The coldest
Month of the year
Has turned my heart cold too.
My gaze, frozen, is riveted on the date—
You left.

Forever gone,
I am still here.
I would trade all my tomorrows
To have you live out all your days—
So many.

The calendar,
Hung on my wall,
Will therefore remain exactly the same—
A reminder of a precious daughter of mine
In heaven.

Your memory,
Imprinted and deeply ingrained,
Follows me around like a shadow,
Making me forget the real reality, you see—
The mark.

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Susan Ashley February 14, 2025 at 7:13 PM Dear Lise, your soulful cinquain is deeply affecting, stirring emotions with intimate imagery of life after the loss of a “precious daughter”. Your poignant poem honors the child’s life, that ended far too soon, with deep maternal grief and undying love. So tragic yet so tenderly and beautifully expressed. Warmest wishes.. ~Susan Lise Clendening February 15, 2025 at 6:02 AM Thank you so much, Susan!