My mothers death (edit 1 )

[Bunx]

edit 1[/b]
Waves roared upon the shoreline.
Gulls flew above in fluttering herd
and the wind, a faint whistle. good foretelling of the chain reaction a death can have on a community
There was a sun shadowed
by clouds.
Strewn seashells and bodies lay.What kind of bodies?

She was young with sporadic freckling
her skin still smooth and sultry.
"what are we going to do?" Margie said
as she moved her hand into the wind,
her fingers reveling in the gust of
the air.this is the time where i said use adjectives like *fair* *stirring*

I contemplated what she had asked
As we walked while leaving footprints
in the sand.

I pulled my hands up and looked at them
There was blood underneath my fingernails.
We passed a sandcastle that she put her foot into.

The sand crumbled around and part
of it collapsed. It was warm and though
it was warm, you could feel a chill from
the wind.


She didn't know why we come here except
that we had to go somewhere.this line i feel is the turning point of the poem, i find myself curious to the where. did you foreshadow this with the "sandy castle"

Her innocence now broken with the stabbing.
She gingerly moved throughout the beach and
didn't appear to mind.

It wasn't her fault that mother began to punch
her in the face over chores that were not
finished.

I remember the screams they both made during
the scuffle. The hasty grabbing of
the knife and the first wound inflicted.

The bookcase was tipped over and the room
destroyed by the time they were through.
It was beautiful and a tragedy.glorious symbolism i was use the adjective burning before bookcase. or bountiful

In the end, mother was stabbed ten times and
bled to death pleading for help.
I stood there in the frame of the doorway and
watched it all. I didn't lift a hand to stop it.
I watched Margie kill her.

The body was heavy, bleach on the floors, it
must all come out, the blood must be removed.
Lifeless she felt in the last few breath she
would take as I moved her in the hall to a sheet
that I would wrap her in for the last time.

Margie was calm for a murderer.
We disposed of the body in Atlantic Bay.
Throwing my mother over a bridge was
the last thing I wanted.
I believe Margie might have felt the same way
except she laughed when mother splashed into
the sea.

RC, this poem is a pose story that is tragic, but amazing crafted and built together. I feel as if i could see the murder happen before my eyes and the symbolic events that took place during that time. thanks for sharing rc[b]

Original
It was the waves that roar upon the shoreline
The wind liken to a faint whistle
The gulls flew above in fluttering herd
There was a casting sun shadowed
by clouds
Strewn seashells and bodies lay

She was young with sporadic freckling
her skin still smooth and sultry
"what are we going to do?" Margie said
as she moved her hand into the wind,
her fingers reveling in the feeling of
the air.

I contemplated what she had asked
As we walked while leaving footprints
in the sand.

I pulled my hands up and looked at them
There was blood underneath.my fingernails.
We passed a sandcastle that she put her foot into.

The sand crumbled around and part
of it collapsed. It was warm yet chilly
and there was a great view of the coast.

She didn't know why we come here except
that we had to go somewhere.

Her innocence now broken with the stabbing
As she gingerly moved throughout the beach
she didn't appear to mind.

It wasn't her fault that mother began to punch
her in the face over chores that were not
finished.

I remember the details and the screams they both
made during the scuffle. The hasty grabbing of
the knife and the first wound inflicted.

It was beautiful and yet a tragedy. The bookcase
was tipped over and the room destroyed by the
time they were through.

In the end, mother was stabbed ten times and
bled to death pleading for help.
I stood there in the frame of the doorway and
watched it all. I didn't lift a hand to stop it.
I watched Margie kill her.

The body was heavy, bleach on the floors, it
must all come out, the blood must be removed.
Lifeless she felt even in the last few breathes she
would take as I moved her in the hall to a sheet
that I would wrap her in for the last time.

Margie was calm for a murderer. .
We disposed of the body in Atlantic Bay.
Throwing my mother over a bridge was
the last thing bad I wanted to ever do again.
I believe Margie might have felt the same way
except she laughed when mother splashed into
the sea.

I look at Margie and all I can feel are
the waves that roar upon the shoreline