The Blur of Words

The memories of the loss of family

Sundry sleepy Sundays solace,

There was never another caring Church,

What was found was gladly lost then.

Found flaws in related members,

Failures in asorted relations of your own,

Pardoned by words, chanted and prayed,

Only to see life didn’t ever answer more.

Swearing allegience to legions of angels,

Unswerved by spate of discourse in the dark

Where all hearts mend the daylights burn,

Bled in every direction heading southerly.

Mothers and fathers bearing no fealty

To spawn of dawns and dread locked demons,

Mothering the airs and spelling your dials

Upon lamplit armchairs posh pique.

Your sesquipedalian sugared and mummified

Bearing no witness to the pasts worthlessness

Spoken of in orange blossom blingy pews,

Felled like any other trees for their gods daily bread.

I mourn the loss of word on tongue of angelic

Being on earthly plains of stained coffee tables,

Where once the idyl lips pursed over easy pages

Ready and willing to make stewed volumes heard.

Elegy poem

Kathy J Anderson

All rights reserved

2022.8.12