Poem: “Gone”

This poem was sent to us by Will Prophitt, a student at Briarwood Christian Academy. Its form and substance are based on William Carlos Williams’ poem, “Death.”


My father has died. No longer
must he work, no longer must
He struggle—

He has passed.
Like the sound of
a muted trumpet,
his life comes
To an end—

No longer
Upon his guilty conscience—

No longer clouds
His mind—

Yet he is not
Clean, he has taken
My affection—
His soul

Has stolen my love
And it is no more—

The fire is cold
And the wind rushes down the chimney —

The garden
Is overgrown with weeds
The flowers do not bloom—

In my heart,
The only love I have
Lies rotting in a box six feet under ground

We are looking forward to receiving more submissions from talented young writers around the Deep South.


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