We buried her upright, in the stance of warriors.
My brothers and I driving
out alone to do this, miles and miles
from the memory of warmth, lifting her
small strong body out of the vehicle
and laying it down
beside the railway track. My gloved hand
brushing frost from her face in the
Siberian winter of a dream in which I
was my mother, and she, mine.
We buried her there without
ritual, lowering her slowly into a furrow,
covering her with fistfuls of ice, hurrying
against the long wail of the approaching train —
the engine of our car left
running, our shaking hands, a sorrow
blinding as snow. Near the end,
my brothers stepped away.
I was the last to see that dowager face.
The sting of the ice from her forehead
on my lips all the way back to waking.
Sometimes her love lights my body up
from the inside out, a love like a good
vodka. Grandmother whose body rose in
smoke, I carry your sweet burn within me
even into this, the frozen tundra of a life
with not a stone left standing
to bear witness.
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This poem appeared in the Summer 2010 issue of Pyrta.
I lost my grandmother in October 2008, and this dream -- and this poem -- were one of many manifestations of my mourning since.
"without ritual", "in the stance of a warrior" puts a stamp of deep time (mythical, heroic) that adds to, and perhaps transcends, the dream. Question: "buried her upright" implies implies in a standing position, yet "into a furrow" indicates a horizontal position. What does "upright" mean in the context of the poem?
The force of your powerful dream shines through this poem, which is achingly lovely and moving. The last section especially sings for me. I love your direct address to your grandmother. This is a knock-out poem. Thank you so much for posting this.
I think this is lovely.
Thanks for reading and commenting!
Joe - I think a small woman could fit into a deep furrow? The word felt right, in the context of the images I saw in my dream.
D'Arcy, Kathy - Thanks so much, I am so glad you enjoyed the poem.
Lovely poem.
"a dream in which I / was my mother, and she, mine."
What does "and she mine" mean here? She already is the speaker's mother. The phrase is confusing to me. Perhaps you don't really need it.
Bill - Thank you. I dreamt that I was my mother, and my uncles were my brothers, so my grandmother was my mother in my dream. Perhaps I haven't made that as clear as I could have in the poem, but I hope I've clarified it to you now!