On Paula’s Death by Suicide

Paula kissed
Soft as the rustle of winter grasses

But she couldn’t find where the wind
Eddies among the rocks in winter,
And she was exposed.

Inside her were enormous bands stretched across starlight
And hung on eagle’s cries

That brittled and snapped in all her loneliness,
Though at the last she got religion.

Was that when she knew
She wouldn’t be coming back?

At Andersonville, the soldiers
Died for lack of salt

Which could not be dug from the red clays of their prison,
Nor provided by their captors.

Some in anguish
Tore the word “salt” from their Bibles
And ate the word.

And what were they
But for salt?

And what was Paula
But for love?

7 thoughts on “On Paula’s Death by Suicide

  1. Wow, Paul! I am really impressed by this poem. It has so many layers, and I know that I can read this over and over and get something new out of it each time. Thank you! Bookmarked…


  2. Pingback: Late Night Thoughts (February 27, 2011) « Café Philos: an internet café

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