Saying Goodbye


The child traced her finger along the feathered black lines
The veins of the granite rock on which she sat
She recalled the tissue paper skin of her grandmother
Was she still here now where the wind whistled in the trees?
Did she wander and howl like the ghosts of nightmares
With neither flesh nor substance?
Did she drift with the nameless,
With the ones who were loved too much?
She spread her fingers flat on the cold stone
Watching as a shiny red beetle marched between her thumb and forefinger
It turned without fear and headed purposefully off in a new direction
She cupped her fingers together to encircle the little bug
Who tramped around and around before lifting its wings
And floating away weightless on the breeze
Bringing her fingers up to her eyes
She peered through the round frame her fingers made
Squinting and tilting her head to see
As the tiny creature got smaller and smaller


This is a poem for The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #201

Words: through, circle, veins, granite, fear, ghost, names, howl, empty, flesh, table, weight.


This is a challenge from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie. My first attempt at a ‘wordle’. From twelve selected words we are to create a story or poem using at least ten of them. I have marked in bold the words chosen.

Thanks also to Bohemian Nerd for her wonderful poem which first introduced me to the challenge!



He came into my broken life
Like a meteor crash; a quiet supernova in my brain
I the bird who burned her wings upon his flame
I drank deeply at the draught of my obsession
I the needy, I the clinging, I the lustful
While his altruism knew no limitation
He watched a love turn to sickness
As the freshest milk will curdle given time
A twinge of guilt
Of desperation
Of wanting what I thought was surely mine
And now a cloud casts shadows where there once was love
What once brimmed over
Now is but an empty bowl
These days I wear my paper tiger mask
But it is his visage I see
A dream of anabiosis
A dream of if only…