Well, I wrote the poem Loss Last January, and spent about a month revising bits of it. I've just seen the file, and changed two more words, and finally felt satisfied enough with it to put it onto the web.

If you haven't read it yet, go do that now!

Assuming you HAVE read it, I'd like to ask you what you think of the ending. Is it ok? Do I get my point across? Do you have any idea what my point is? OK, here's the simpler question: Who is it that died? Answer me that...

Do you have your answer yet? I really would like you to form your own. You see, what I intended is for the parent to understand at the end, "My child lives. My child lives and will be taken care of. It is *I* who have died." -and then the reading is supposed to realize that the parent's speed, lack of any pain, and not being heard by anyone... are all because he/she's been dead. But what did YOU think at the end? It could so easily sound like... the child is indeed dead, and an angel will be taking care of him. But that's not what I want... I don't think. what do you think?

1. It's clear that the parent is dead, and you think that's the right ending.
2. It's clear that the parent is dead, but you feel the child should be instead.
3. You felt completely uncertain at the end who was dead.
4. You thought the child was dead, and think I should make it clearer about the parent being the deceased.
5. You thought the child was dead, and find that a better ending.

I would consider changing the last line to "The one who is dead, is I."

My second question is: what is the gender of the Parent? Mother or Father? I realized after writing it that I never specified. Somehow... it feels like the mother to me. But that has to do with the inspiration I had, (more about that soon.) I wrote it from... my point of view though, and put some of my own fears into it. So I think that in theory, it could be the Father. What I wish was true, is that everyone who reads this poem, will feel so much taken up, that they picture themselves to be the parent. But that might be too much to ask for.

Now, my inspiration. Where did I get the idea for this terrible poem? (Terrible as in Terrifying, -I hope.) First came the picture I took in Dresden, Church of the Cross, last summer. It was ever so moving for me; it was a statue of a saint, or angel, but had been damaged, and was missing parts here and there, including one arm. On closer inspection, I found that more than an arm had been lost; It was an arm holding a baby. This saint's baby had been torn away, leaving only a tiny hand resting on her bosom. (Photo can be seen Here.)

I found this frightfully dramatic and powerful, the more so because I could imagine that the damage had happened in the Fire Bombing of Dresden. I like to call the picture "Lost Children of Dresden," referring to all those innocents that died.

Well, months and months later, I was showing these pictures to some friend, when it clicked in my head: She's got wings; She's an angel; meaning... SHE'S the dead one. If she's dead... then the child is alive? I was worrying the whole time for her poor lost child... but she's the one who lives no more.

It was such a... peculiar feeling; To have my empathy wrenched around in a new direction. It was a peculiar, unique experience to have my orientation and perspective so suddenly switch to the other pole. That feeling... is what I wanted to put into a poem. That exact shift of perspective is what I was aiming for. -And what I sort of forgot in the end. I'm surprisingly ready now to leave the ending... ambiguous. But I DO want it to be at least that: to have the reader at least wondering if, in fact, the parent is the dead one.

Ok. Those are my thoughts about the poem.

And yours?