Hi Sue,
An interesting poem here!
I like thinking how many people are sat with the narrator as the gristle's
chewed.
I don't like the words "I gained" tho! I think the poem works without the
notion of gaining mentioned so explicitly.
Very Emily Dickenson-ish in tone, too... but I don't think of her as eating
at a table with other people!
Bob
>From: Sue Scalf <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: new: Etiquette
>Date: Mon, 5 Jan 2004 13:30:24 EST
>
>Etiquette
>
>
>Grief is a gristle it does no good to chew.
>Everything flavorless, tough,
>till there is nothing to do
>but spit out this lump of heart meat,
>this ache in the jaws and breast.
> I am no good at this,
>and there's been far too much
>of what I can't control.
>
>Slow, deliberate, into the serviette.
>I've gained a bone of hope and let grief go.
>At the end of the feast
>there may to be something sweet
>and new. I lift my glass
>in gratitude for love once lived
>while all around the banquet flows
>and no one knows.
>
>
>Sue Scalf
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