Wednesday, June 25, 2008
A Roadside Shrine (poem by Eric Ashford)
A Roadside Shrine
Eric Ashford
Deep red chrysanthemums.
Of course we think of blood,
anyone would
but when we look at this place
where a drunken motorist
crushed a child to a tree
we see past the bouquet,
the green plastic pot
fluffy toys tied to the trunk.
We see months and years
of light planted here.
Of course we think of blood,
anyone would
but when we look at this place
where a drunken motorist
crushed a child to a tree
we see past the bouquet,
the green plastic pot
fluffy toys tied to the trunk.
We see months and years
of light planted here.
Someone keeps coming back
to sweep away the shadows,
because this is not a grave
but a life held up for our eyes.
Someone wants us to see
a meaning and a life still lit here
and the nodding red blooms
paint a vibrant memory
we should not wishto wash away.
(C) Eric Ashford
Painting by N. M. Rai
(Eric Ashford and N. M. Rai continue their remarkable collaboration, combining poetry, painting, and reading. To hear the poem read aloud, go to http://metaphorsandwings.googlepages.com/aroadsideshrine
