Grasping

In that moment before grief
When you have a hold on something
-it could be anything-
maybe carrots,
or a sheet of paper,
or pencil.
You release your grip in an instant.
Time does not continue,
yet the object falls away.

Not like dropping a ball,
with a child’s anticipation of return.
Neither as with a moment of revelation,
or when gasps follow a feverish plea
for more.

It is different.

It is a moment we cannot predict,
unable to stage a photograph
of the way the touch vanishes
and grasp fails,
yet the burden of loss enfolds.

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7 thoughts on “Grasping

  1. John S Post author

    Sophia
    Thanks for visiting and commenting on the poem. I’m glad you liked the use of the carrots. My intension was to have something unusual in the imagery to illustrate the grasped object. It is unexpected, as you say.Thanks!

    Reply
  2. redmitten

    yes, the carrots make this poem. way cool. (consider letting the first stanza stand alone. more power to the “carrots”…that punch is fully felt that way.)

    Reply
  3. redmitten

    yes, the carrots make this poem. way cool. carrots are every day and never braced for grief or tragedy. carrots are innocent. your instinct to include carrots further illustrates the poet/artist in you.

    (consider letting the first stanza stand alone. more power to the “carrots”…that punch is fully felt that way.)

    Reply
    1. John S Post author

      Thanks Sherry. The carrots do show the everyday. Unexpected things can happen in the midst of everyday. That was exactly my point. I’m glad you liked the poem.

      Reply

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