The earth trembled the night my father died,
Whispering his final melancholy song;
Standing at his solemn graveside, we cried.
While sirens seared the morn we sighed,
Praying the aftershocks would not be strong:
The earth trembled the night my father died.
The rabbi’s chants renewed our mourners’ pride
Erasing fears of countless deaths so wrong.
Standing at his solemn graveside, we cried.
As handfuls of dirt filled the grave’s inside,
Wiping our tears, we watched the throng.
The earth trembled the night my father died.
Oh, mother, thankfully you waited by my side
As Death took one who scraped along.
Standing at his solemn graveside, we cried.
To Bakersfield we nervously made the ride
Where the quake’s wrath reigned so strong.
Oh, yes, the earth trembled the night he died.
And now at my father’s grave I stand alone
Humming his Yiddish song.
January 23, 2012 at 5:41 pm
a wonderful poem, Ruby, genuinely moving.
January 23, 2012 at 6:41 pm
Thanks, Jane. I soon may borrow your title “After the Fall.” Doctors chant,”Don’t fall, Ruby.” Life changing experience.I’m
out of confinement now, however, driving.
Let’s meet for our annual wine before I turn the big 80!!
Ruby
ps bumped intoAnn Cameron yesterday at Word For Word. Lovely woman;haven’t seen her for half-century,maybe.
January 24, 2012 at 12:12 am
The sounds add to the solemnity – strong images, strong feeling – and all within the structure of a villanelle! I’m inspired to try one, Ruby!
Judy
January 24, 2012 at 4:28 am
Wonderful how the heart is grasping and straining toward the earth and the father gone such a short time in the poem’s narrative yet such a long while for the poet. Love it, Ruby, and love the working in form. Glad to hear you’re back driving. So essential, isn’t it? Be well.
January 24, 2012 at 4:02 pm
Ruby:
As always I love your writing, but in the past I’ve always read your prose pieces. I think this is the first poem I’ve read that you’ve written … it’s moving and haunting.