I was with him when he found it this first line gets me every time. discarded among cedar and limestone, the skull of an 8-point buck that he plated with chips from a shattered mirror.
A memento of my son’s painstaking labor - breaking the mirror, selecting the chips, affixing them, patient and compelled.
In this curiosity of bone and silvered glass, could he see into an indifferent universe did? where his future would be denied?
I look into the skull’s mirror, Glad you didn't go for breaking up the stanza as I suggested. meditate on the chaos of my visage reflected back in a kaleidoscope of loss. cut, redundant
It’s a universe we share. He is father to my grief and I am father to his memory. Reflections fused by the happenstance of now. this works for me. I feel like it ties back nicely to the mirror images. I am interested to see what other ideas you have.
Memento
I was with him when he found it
discarded among cedar and limestone,
the skull of an 8-point buck that he plated
with chips from a shattered mirror.
A memento of my son’s painstaking labor -
breaking the mirror, selecting the chips,
affixing them, patient and compelled.
I look into the skull’s mirror,
meditate on the chaos of my visage
reflected back in a kaleidoscope of loss.
In its reflection, this curiosity of bone and silvered glass,
could he see into an indifferent universe
where his future would be denied?
It’s a universe we share. He is father to my grief
and I am father to his memory
that time has fused into the happenstance of now.
Memento
I was with him when he found it
discarded among cedar and limestone,
the skull of an 8-point buck
now plated with chips from a shattered mirror,
a memento of my son’s painstaking labor
breaking the mirror, selecting the chips,
affixing them, patient and compelled.
I look into the skull’s mirror,
meditate on the chaos of my visage
reflected back in a kaleidoscope of loss.
What did he see in its reflection,
this curiosity of bone and silvered glass?
Could he see into an indifferent universe
where his future would be denied?
It’s a universe we share. He is father to my grief
and I am father to his memory
that time has fused into the happenstance of now.
Hey TqB,
I struggle to know what else to add. It's beautiful.
kudos,
Bryn
