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The Last Fugue, a Pantoum Poem by Susan Budig

That’s the way it sounds to me
My hand dragging in the water
As you bow her violin in key
We laugh and drink Vichy water

My hand dragging in the water
The contrails in the sky
We laugh and drink Vichy water
You say her name, but I don’t cry

The contrails in the sky
Hang like my heart in stasis
You say her name, but I don’t cry
I give you my last quarter with two faces

Hang like my heart in stasis
Until it bursts into a fistful of coins
I give you my last quarter with two faces
Throw it in her grave, I enjoin

Until it bursts into a fistful of coins
As you bow her violin in key
Throw it in her grave, I enjoin
That’s the way it sounds to me

image

Poem copyright 2011 by Susan Budig.

Stock image courtesy of Google Image.

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Filed under grieving pantoum poem poems poetry sisters susan budig grief loss recovery lit illustrated poems

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    by Susan Budig That’s the way it sounds to me My hand dragging in the water As you bow her violin in key We laugh and...
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