Playing with Form: Rondeau

The Funeral Band
Leave it till it falls off they said.
A fragile fibre holds the thread
shows our lives twisted together,
fraying wisps attached forever—
twisting strands: symbol of the dead—
binds us together as though wed,
thin white cotton heavy as lead
holds me fast this funeral tether.
Till it falls off.
Through mourning days and grief I’m led
a fractured world inside my head
taunted by what if he never…
stumbling through but cannot sever—
this binding bracelet; his life’s thread…
till it falls off.

Further Information

© Ammie-oy 2010


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