This Closure

*From my poetry collection, All the Words in Between 

The search party found her under

the crunch of autumn oak leaves. Rigor mortis

set in three weeks ago.

Quickly,

she was filed next to Bella in the Witch Elm—

and other mysteries. She’ll adjust to tight spaces

and purgatory silence.

After the autopsy,

even the anchor woman shrugged. Everyone

followed suit, except for the shadow who defaced

brick walls with accusations.

Three months later,

another college student left a party and never

made it across her front lawn. She too entered her

very own cold case as the town buzzed around

her bruises and hammer-stained flesh.

Finally, my daughter was left alone so I could console

her soundlessly. But sometimes,

neighbors remember, and frown:

“I’m so sorry…but you found closure, so it’s better now.”

(No. It’s not.)

◄ The Stigma

Baking Soda ►

Comments

Profile image

Dorothy Webb

Thu 14th Feb 2019 10:24

".I'm so sorry...but you found closure, so it's better now"

This is a haunting poem, it stays in the room long after the PC.has been turned off.
'Closure' is that a convenient way for others to shrug and get on with their uninterupted lives?

Profile image

Wolfgar Miere

Thu 14th Feb 2019 06:20

Hello Paris,

A thoughtful piece of writing which exposes the futility with which the term closure is banded around by those who can't imagine it's redundant nature.

There is no closure there is only moving on and a sort of reconciling to how things are.

Rolling news and the dramatization of people's pain and misery is an affront to their suffering. There has to be balance though, truths have to be exposed.

David.

Profile image

Douglas MacGowan

Wed 13th Feb 2019 22:52

You portray the sense of tragedy so well. I feel the pain even though I cannot imagine the depth of the sorrow.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message