Find the words for this sad stirring, but of
what? Losing heart, another context gone,
innocent sport stripped from us like a glove?
We must find words for this
and try to understand what can't be known,
murderous rage chosen instead of love,
aimed at children who wait for parents done
this race now strewn with blood from bombs above
them and below. Their eyes forever open'd,
childhood gone as shrapnel blasts mean loss of
how to find words for this.
This is in response to the prompt from Marian at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads to use the form of Roundel and her excellent explanation. It's also an attempt to try to find words to describe my horror in the aftermath of the bombings at the finish line of the Boston Marathon yesterday. Boston is where I'm from, a city I love, a city that hosts this international marathon for 117 years now and celebrates the runners wholeheartedly. I'm at a loss to understand.
Such a powerful piece, wrenched from the pain of tragedy.
ReplyDeleteKnocked me out of my silence.
DeleteTopical and to the point - horror expressed poetically.
ReplyDeleteI was trying to wrap my mind around it. I'm a retired psych nurse so I understand scrambled wiring but when it hits close to home (literally) it's shocking nonetheless.
DeleteSadness in poetry... I think many of us are feeling emotional about the world right now.
ReplyDeleteOur children and grandchildren stand in stark contrast to such choices. May they prosper.
DeleteWords fail us; this is not the natural way of things. Those lives touched by this deed will forever grieve.
ReplyDeleteI talked to my father who's 96 that night and he said much the same thing.
DeleteAmen. I'm glad you wrote this...
ReplyDeleteHad to.
DeleteYou have expressed the innocence lost so well. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI like Fred Roger's quote about noticing the helpers in any tragedy and focusing on them. There were thousands of ordinary folks who opened their homes to those displaced by the hotel closures as well. But the loss is enormous.
Delete"Their eyes forever open'd,
ReplyDeletechildhood gone as shrapnel blasts mean loss"
Awful..
Well written.
I had just heard the report on the injured children brought there.
Deletesad but true...even words escape this tragedy
ReplyDeleteA sad day.
DeleteThis is an emotional roundel that pulls on my heart. I too have been so saddened by this, yet another, tragedy foisted upon the innocent. It just breaks my heart, but I was encouraged by all the signs of love and kindness that rose up from the Boston spirit.
ReplyDeleteMe too. I felt proud somehow and very grateful for the counterbalance.
DeleteYour refrain is just perfect...and that's what we do as writers, try to find the words. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mary. Try we must.
DeleteThis is so heartfelt, you put into words the pain so many are feeling. I think this is the more difficult form of roundel poetry ... you managed it beautifully.
ReplyDeleteI've been offline lately but wanted to speak on this.
Deletefantastic... thank you for this. it's unbelievable. i think the form really complements your subject... or, really, you used the form very effectively to express it, the emotion rather sings out of this. well done.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Marian. I appreciated the prompt which got my thoughts flowing. Yes, I liked this form in this first introduction to it.
DeleteYou are right - there are no words.
ReplyDeleteBut we must find them also.
DeleteMy heart was heavy with the horror in Boston, and I couldn't write, until I got the idea of writing about food in Italy...as you know, a subject far removed from this week's shocking news.
ReplyDeleteYou've written it well, though, with the wisdom of one who knows we must find a way to speak of it, to one another and to confused children.
K
Since I'm living in Italy, your topic seemed like a good balance to the madness.
Delete