One for the Day of the Dead 
Tag Archives: Grief
Bad Moon Rising
Written after the death of dear friend Copper Love, with thanks to her family for allowing us to share one of Copper’s paintings. To see more of Copper’s art click here
Judy
September is Suicide Awareness and Prevention Month – here is hoping friendship and poetry can help.
LIGHT SHINING ON COPPER
LIGHT SHINING ON COPPER
I can mostly buy
the whole spiritual thing
that she is neither dead nor gone
or at a perfect time
and to a perfect place
But there is
this hole in a hug
where she used to fit
In memory of Copper Love 1947 – 2017
www.copperlove.com
ATHABASCA
ATHABASCA
Along the Icefields Parkway
(prettiest road in the world)
winding from Lake Louise to Jasper
lies a glacier that feeds three oceans
(Atlantic, Pacific, and Arctic)
It takes a hundred years for a snowflake
falling on the top to make it to the bottom
Before a snowflake that falls today
finishes its journey the glacier may be gone
On the other side of the road in spring
water falls down a long face of rock
They call it the weeping wall
it may still be there
MISSING LEONARD
MISSING LEONARD
Leonard Cohen is gone
He doesn’t call, he doesn’t write
So huddle with me now
fellow worshipers and weepers
Huddle with me now
round the poem and the song
and listen for the breadcrumb
and the hint of old perfume
that speak
of other ways to God
than through the holes
in Jesus and the goddess
IT HELPED AT THE TIME
IT HELPED AT THE TIME
Today I visited the graves of my parents
flowers for my mother
tobacco for my father
and chocolate for the orphan boy
He had a stomach ache later
but it sure helped at the time
IN GRATITUDE FOR YOUR LIFE ODE
IN GRATITUDE FOR YOUR LIFE ODE
In memory of Dr. Marvin Kimbrough PhD
Ah Doctor Marvin, you were class in a glass
the glass is broken – class spilt everywhere
I want to believe that all is well and
all your ripples spreading forever
a part of God’s most perfect plan
and yet I also want to say
I stepped on a splinter again today
BURYING THE POET
BURYING THE POET
The great poet died so suddenly
her student thought that she
would surely die as well
At the funeral she fell quickly
and deeply in love
with the poet’s tall
young son
Took him back to the hotel
her wound open, his
mother’s life
entering
MY UNCLE SHOT MY DOG
MY UNCLE SHOT MY DOG
My uncle shot my dog
My ever loving, ever loyal
saved me from the coyotes
went back to the ranch to
lead my parents to me
stuck in the mud – just
like in the movies –
Lassie dog
My uncle shot my dog
Maybe she had took to bitin’ people
if she did, I’m sure they had it coming
Maybe she’d got to eatin’ the chickens
if she did, she’d earned every one
Maybe she was old and sick and hurtin’
maybe she was better off dead
than alive
I don’t remember anyone saying that
but I doubt it would’ve helped
Not when it’s your best friend
and you’re five
My uncle shot my dog
My uncle shot my dog
and went to his grave
unforgiven
Maybe I can get it done
before I go to mine