For class we pick a poet and did a variation or do an imitation of their poem. So here it is. I chose this peice because Alexie’e poem is quite meaningful, read it. And maybe one day I will writ like him.
A blank glance upon my math
In this stale aired dining room.
I wonder who I should call? A tutor,
Carpenter, neurologist, or drafter?
Who is blessed among us and most deserves
The first call? I choose my father because
He’s a genius when it comes to math work.
I smile and look at the telephone.
In the arctic aired dining room,
“What am I doing, my dad is dead!”
Again slapped by the hand of grief
Even though 3 years have passed.
I think to dial my mother
To let her hear of my day
She sighs with similar coldness
“I know, I wanted to call him
Just a couple of day ago
Because, I also reflected on his loving face.”
Those words consumed my mind
And flashed those special memories of him.
Grief will disable and deprive limbs
Grief whips the soul, allowing little rest.
Greif may be one of those things of this world, but
It can never take those memories forged over time.
Memories of loved one, the true riches of life.
Riches obtained with no requirements.
Currently there are no comments related to "A Variation to Sherman Alexie’s Poem:“grief Calls Us to The Things of This World”". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
