Monday, March 24, 2025

Birds No Longer Sing in Our Spring



I left no letters or scarf
to warm your memories.

The end of golden came
on a burnt Thursday
of bitter words and mistrust.

We turned to shell, empty
vessels too cold to hold warmth,
and too angry to rebirth kindness.

©Susie Clevenger 2025






9 comments:

  1. I love "The end of golden came on a burnt Thursday." And the last stanza takes my breath away with its depth of meaning.

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  2. This is as short and harsh as a punch. Susie. Sometimes it just has to be like that.

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  3. "The end of golden came on a burnt Thursday" is wonderful. So well penned.

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  4. Oof. Great writing

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  5. all that ^. and more. powerful, Susie ~

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  6. Such a powerful and moving poem - succinct and clear - Jae

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  7. "We turned to shell" -- what an indictment and admission at once, and what a sorrow! Once again, Susie, you wield words like swords, devastatingly.

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  8. Deep as deep can be in so few words, Susie. Stunning.

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  9. Oof. "we turned to shell" Is there any better metaphor? Wow.

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