WARNING! This is not one of my usual poems, it’s more a reflection perhaps. Yesterday a woman jumped off Riva’s clock tower, which you’ve seen very often in my posts.
I read sweet lines of poetry
Built in majestic symmetry
Clothed in shrouds of haunting rhyme
Born in life’s too sad tragedies.
Metaphors and obscure wordplay,
Powerful wordy artistry,
Delights me as I read the fruit
Of word weavers at their very best.
Broken hearts and broken dreams
Flow weeping on white pages.
Romantic tragic harmony,
Tears my hear from out my breast.
And then there are the angry words
Denouncing worldly savagery …
War, death self-righteous pageantry
With blistering ringing tones.
Oh to have that craftsmanship,
For the homage that I want to write.
For a sister who left life in tragedy
A rainy summer day in June.
A woman jumped off Riva’s Tower
Yesterday as it struck the hour,
Before the eyes of hundreds passing,
And still no one knows why.
What might have made a difference?
Why did she see no hope?
I avoided looking at her corpse,
Though I saw her just the same.
My feeble words just can’t express
The futility that I feel:
They’re just a cloud of emptiness,
Dust motes swirling in my brain.
No, I don’t know who she was,
Where she’d been or why she jumped.
But I wished I’d had the power,
To touch her and hold her back.
Faceless she walks beside me,
Not knowing her, yet I write for her.
This homage is for her, my sister,
She walked her path the best she could.