Divisions

[one lass]

Divisions (quick revision to see if I like it}

After the catastrophe I sat
in strained communion, alone with my father;
nibbling toasted pain de mie,
choking down bottles of inexpensive wine,
and muttering a few prayers
for comfort
in the wake of her passing.

I woke early the next morning,
nestled in a dusty quilt,
scrunched atop my window seat.
The oak outside was lightning-struck
- the pillar split to the roots, limbs bent askew.
Nests were void of sparrows;
with no nourishment, no shelter, no comfort,
I guess it no longer felt like home.


Divisions

After the catastrophe I sat

in strained communion, alone with my father;

nibbling toasted pain de mie,

choking down bottles of inexpensive wine,

and muttering a few prayers

for comfort.

I woke early the next morning,

nestled in a dusty quilt,

scrunched atop my window seat.

The oak outside was lightning-struck

- the pillar split to the roots, limbs bent askew.

Its nests were void of sparrows;

with no nourishment, no shelter, no comfort,

I guess it no longer felt like home.

Original:

Divisions

After the catastrophe I sat
in strained communion with my father.
We nibbled toasted pain de mie,
choked down bottles of inexpensive wine,
and muttered a few prayers
for comfort.

I woke early the next morning,
nestled in a dusty quilt,
scrunched atop my window seat.
The oak outside was lightning-struck
- the pillar split to the roots, limbs bent askew.
Its nests were void of sparrows;
with no nourishment, no shelter, no comfort,
I guess it no longer felt like home.

Hi.  Read the other critiques first. I'm thinking about that first line too. Looking as well at the bold faced, 'in the wake of her passing'  which I'd consider were I you, for the opening line.
I like 'wake' in this  poem suggesting both an event, a traditional wake, and the suggestion of unwilling, unwanted movement away from 'her' in the liquid moving sense.

How both wakes inevitably end, and we are left with the dusty things, the destroyed and empty things,  spied with new eyes, full of new meaning. that awareness of  things lost.

I agree with doing away with nourishment, shelter and comfort. as mentioned before, the empty nest is more than sufficient in its implication.

"its nests void of sparrows"   a lightning struck tree and that nest....also a calamity, for the sparrows, your metaphor there, for your own loss and its suddenness. I like that. It's deeply lonely and having recently lost my own mother, quite suddenly and dramatically, it speaks to me.   My condolences on your own loss.   lass.