Season of Wither

Poem and artwork by Meg Sorick

The rains have come
And the birds have gone
Just the carrion crows
Cackling like crones
Gather in the bare branches
Watchful for a meager meal

Falling Hawthorne berries
And delicate dandelion clocks
Mark the passage of time
Golden gorse and crumbling
Stone walls
Creep the ages by

It is the season for reflection
When death is all around us
To close the doors and windows
On the cold and howling wind
When the brief and bitter daylight
Yields to darkness and decay

To wither or to weather?
Hidden and hermetic
Insulated, introverted
To waste these hours of isolation?
Or cling to life and dream of love
In a springtime so far away

Compulsion

A poem by Meg Sorick

Symmetry and straight lines,
All the light switches closed.
The knives pointed
In the same direction
The dishes must be white.
And there must be an even number.
Or a set with one in the middle
Just so, nothing less is acceptable

Take the spoon from the front
If you please, there’s no other way
To make sure they’re all used equally.
The shelves are not full.
I must fill the shelves.
Fold the clothes and stack
Keep the piles from tipping.

Balance is essential,
But neither temperance or sensibility.
This relentless striving for perfection
Pushes to the very edge of the abyss,
Where the only comfort is in a bottle.

Too much is out of my control.
I must control all that I can.

*Not autobiographical, header image artwork by me.

Memory

A stack of letters bound by ribbon
Flower petal soft and old
And a box of sepia photographs
Of people she doesn’t know

But I’m supposed to keep them
Safe from mold and decay
Preserved for posterity
Instead of thrown away

Eggshell frail and delicate
Memories peculiarly her own
When one generation passes
Like a wisp of smoke, they’re gone

*As I clear out old photos and keepsakes that my mother has been carrying with her from place to place, I realize how very disconnected we can be from the generations of family who preceded us. My mom has photos of family members we don’t recognize and letters from my Grandmother’s cousins from Scotland. We’re trying to organize it in such a way as to keep as much as possible. Maybe someday I will research our family tree and these would be nice to have to match up with the names. Meanwhile, I’ve been taking photos of some of these old documents with my phones just to preserve them. And all the myriad slides are being converted to digital format so my entire childhood isn’t lost or impossible to view. I spent a good part of my day yesterday wandering down memory lane.