poetry and prose
The Peel
And again those
white chalk cliffs near Dover
peeled away and crumbled
into the sea.
Grief feels that way,
the crumbling of it.
It tore my heart,
and peeled my bones.
Raw days in a flood.
Its flawed blue horizon
is now my familiar.
dVerse Quadrille #98 “peeling” (constraint: 44 words) and Poetics: Impermanence ©️ Misky 2020
Really striking imagery, and a beautiful exploration of grief. Thank you for sharing.
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Thanks.
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I like the description of grief as crumbling.
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Beautiful; what fantastic imagery!
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Thanks so much.
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Amazing to know it all crumbles… nothing ever lasts
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Absolutely nothing.
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lovely piece, so much in this: the ‘…flawed blue horizon / is now my familiar’ returning us to the first image of the cliffs.
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Thanks, Peter. I’m glad you liked it, and appreciate the comment.
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You truly capture the pain of grief, especially with this….”It tore my heart,
and peeled my bones.” So intense, but so true. I don’t think there could be a deeper feeling than grief.
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It's Still Life 
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