The day we buried Eddie, it snowed.
We gathered like penguins on ice,
all in black; black suits, dresses,
black umbrellas turned against gusts.
Black veils shrouded our hearts in grief,
and draped into the open hole of his life.
But she stood like a wounded heart,
splayed and bleeding its fire,
dressed all in red; red dress, shoes,
red umbrella kissing the sky.
Scarlet veils bled love from her veins,
and dripped into the open whole of his life.
People will talk. She said nothing
until the last flower was laid in snow.
'Red is my love’s favorite, ' she whispered
to those silent men with black shovels.
'I want to know he looks down from heaven;
smiles me vibrant in this cold and lonely world.'
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Comments about this poem (Red Mourning by Shirley Alexander )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Teacher, Asit Kumar Sanyal
- The Road is Full of Thorn,, Aftab Alam
- Do accept, hasmukh amathalal
- A Bit On The Side, Rod Morris
- Some Things Should Not Have Been, Anita Khelawan
- Let not this earth be divided, gajanan mishra
- With situation, hasmukh amathalal
- Misery Loves Company, Bill Cantrell
- Hot Summer Tanka, Toshie Nohara
- No need to ask, gajanan mishra