Tags
Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poetry, cancer, death, grief, heartbreak, hospice, loss, memories, Mother, Mum, pain, Peak District, poetry, sorrow, tears, UK poet, Uk poetry, Woodhead Pass, Yorkshire poet
I remember the daily grind through the Peaks;
from Hillsborough to hospice.
Morphine induced twilight hours,
brittle brown heather hair,
cascading watery cataracts,
crashing, weeping, winding.
I know each bend like the veins in my hand;
the outcrops and falling rocks.
Spray from the lorries,
thrown up, muddy teardrops,
sliding down the windscreen,
breaking limits, breaking hearts.
This is the road to hell.
© Death of a Minor 24.05.2014
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Photo credit : photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/romeo66/2101025633/”>Romeo66</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a>
Worldly Winds 
Not your happiest day, today, Alex!
What an effective poem, it’s got that sort of mournful rhythm to it, most fitting.
Thank you – it’s that time of year – I spent 12 weeks driving over the Peaks to visit my Mum in the hospice – she died 28th June. It was 9 years ago – some days it feels like yesterday and others it feels like a lifetime ago!
Yep, know what you mean, I lost someone close to me 23 May – you never, ever forget.
No you never do – and sometimes it’s a blessing and other times not 🙂
Painfully beautiful, your poem depicts that long, aching journey that has only one end. We remember them always and honor them in that remembrance.
Oh thank you what a beautiful comment. Yes, always remembered and always missed xx
Your poem contains some exceptionally vivid imagery.
Thank you 🙂
Reblogged this on Worldly Winds and commented:
It is a stormy night, and I have just driven home over the Woodhead Pass – one of the inspirations for this poem. It seemed apt to repost.