literature

Ellie's Mother

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Published: May 12, 2014

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Literature Text

Even oak trees crumble,
tumble-down lovers,
bone white in 1998:

grief, in season now
is an ode to a ghost with skin,
whale song, a mute paper trail

and she is not a butterfly, but the sparrow
that flew.

Never tell her you understand, never
carry her home where bills and bruises
are lessons

one day grief will be a memory.

Tell your daughter:
chameleon child with ship-wrecked tresses,
you can't love a poet
because, Ellie, drowning oceans,
summer, and faulted stars
are a barren field of farewell.

This was inspired by Echolalic-Ellie's "women are not highways", because it struck me as such a fantastic and beautiful line, and it reminded me how beautiful many of Ellie's titles are. This poem is not to mock or steal from Ellie's amazing works, but to showcase and honour them.

The title has nothing to do with our Ellie's mother, but just seemed appropriate.

Couldn't put it into Found poetry, so the next best thing is Traditional Fixed Forms, as found poetry is pretty traditional.