We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

25.8.20

At Times ...

At Times …

I have, at times, a slight wheeze
in the back of my throat,
which, coming up unexpectedly
as if from nowhere, sounds just like
the plaintive miaow of my last cat –
my darling, my treasure –
a strange foundation
for loving memory, I must say,
yet no less affecting for that,
catching me quite like a sob….


Written in response to Poets and Storytellers United's Weekly Scribblings #34: Foundation.

25 comments:

  1. The strangest things often remind us of what we have lost, whether it be people, pets or just belongings perhaps left on the train or bus. Your sob at the end made me feel sad about it too!

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  2. Oh wow...yeah, I've been startled by the odd things that turn a memory into a full technicolor and immersive moment. And I'm thankful, even for the ones that take a swipe at my heart, because it means the time spent making those memories was good.

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  3. Nothing's ever lost; everything comes back to us, sooner or later, sometimes in the least expected circumstance. Well done.

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  4. Ah yes, pets throughout our lives .... memories trigger so many emotions.

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  5. You must miss your cat very much...so sad.

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    Replies
    1. I do. But c'est la vie. (And also la mort, I suppose.)

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  6. Yes indeed we always want the good things to go on and on and on
    Happy Wednesday. Stay safe

    Much 💝love

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  7. Who knows what will trigger an emotion? It's a mystery!

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  8. Triggers for memories are vastly varied. Thanks for sharing this one so eloquently.

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    Replies
    1. Poems also rise from surprising sources sometimes.

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  9. Memory is such a complex mistress, isn't she? I do love it (and sometimes finding just as breath-catching) how she can show up in the most unexpected moments, places, sounds...

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    1. Sometimes very strange. And in cases like this, always ultimately welcome.

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  10. Rosemary, I think it was a stifled sob. I get them sometimes too, ever since a terribly sad for me dissolution of my first marriage.
    ..

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    1. Some sorrows we don't get over, just learn to live with.

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  11. This poem is so moving, Rosemary, a sob caught in my throat. I too had a darling, treasure of a cat. She was killed four years ago. My laptop often throws up a photograph of her, sometimes she brushes past me in half-sleep, the sob is always waiting in the back of my throat.

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  12. Love that description of grief. I almost wanted to clear my throat for you while reading this.

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  13. You never know what might come back to you at the oddest moment.
    Well done, Rosemary!

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