Aphotic

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars - Emerson


What of the things we leave behind. Who clears
the dark car from the driveway - the dead
eyes of it glaring empty back at you like the sea.

Who clears the dirty plates, the caked clatter
of utensil, the rancid water caught
in the bottom of the pan. Your voice is caught

in my ear from the last time we spoke. I
have missed you like the darkness
held in your palm. It was
talisman - the cruel bones of love

strung around your neck for all
time and leading you into the river
of dark. But still.

The stars escaped through your fingers
like hummingbirds

darting toward the deep
red of summer situated
somewhere barely visible

to the undarkened eye. Eye
of nothing,
you rest in all time and teach us
how to be left

and how to be leaving.
You have looked
on enough. Close now. There is
nothing. Like the hole


You have left.

Author's Note

2025

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Hello dear Eilis,

A poem for db who departed this plane age 47.

Lacking light. I had to look up the title. The entire poem pulls me into a grief like dark empty state.

What of the things we leave behind - and the answers will depend very much on the relationships established and the love we gave or perhaps didn’t while we lived.

Your voice is caught
in my ear from the last time we spoke

If the words were unkind, they will echo time and time again

The third stanza stands out for me, the mention of the cruel bones of love

This poem leaves me feeling heavy with sadness for something which could have been so much better, and yet there is still comfort in the knowledge that not everything has gone.

The stars still shine in the midnight sky and they need the darkness to be seen at their best. The stars are always a comfort to me.

This poem to me is looking for final closure. There is nothing left, nothing left to say.

Just a few thoughts from me. I always find your work captivating. This poem touched on many emotions, and sadly they were on the dark side.

My very best wishes to you dear poet.

Chris

[Eilis]

Hi, Chris. Thank you for your in-depth response to this poem. I have had trouble writing new works the last few years but have written a few. This and my other new post are examples but I’ve not felt anything was really good enough or what I’d like it to be. I thought I should maybe share and see if they are clear at all or too much in my own head. Your heartfelt response is so appreciated and helpful as I try to discern this. I’m grateful for the time you took in reading.

This poem is for a good friend who was integral to my development as a poet and someone I did have a very close almost sibling relationship with for years but we lost touch. I recently discovered he has passed and felt devastated for not knowing and not having a chance to say goodbye. It is perhaps too cerebral and internal yet, but the discovery comes at a time in my life where everything seems to be disappearing or falling apart and perhaps that desperation is part of the bones of the poem and experience itself. The finality of death leaves so few options for us here. Just that search for final closure as you say. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and share your thoughts. I always appreciate your visits.

[Chris Shaw]

Many thanks for your share here Eilis, as I had no idea who this poem was written for. The circumstances you mentioned are very sad indeed. So sad to find out about your friend’s death the way you did. I am so pleased that you are writing again. With best wishes,

Chris

[Eilis]

Thank you, Chris. Best wishes to you.

[Pryde Foltz]

Superb. Deep meaning and expression ... precision and individuality in your craft.

[Eilis]

Thanks as always, Pryde. I appreciate you reading.

[SkinlessFrank]

This reminds me that there have been a few beautiful souls (maybe we only had known one in our lives) whose sensitivity made it impossible to go on. But the way they see and experience things colours our own view of the crazy world around us, and their presence in our lives enriches. And then suddenly we learn of their demise. It leaves us reeling and asking questions that can’t be answered, as if somehow the act of asking questions would help us make sense of their parting. The hole you talk about here for me has a duality. It hurts but it also opens a way of seeing beauty through the eyes of the departed one, a hole that would not be there otherwise.

[Eilis]

Hi, thank you for such a thoughtful and understanding response. I have learned that people tell us who they are but sometimes we choose not to believe them. I’ve felt that way myself—that I have been open and clear but somehow my reality doesn’t connect with others. So much of this comes down to our ability to absorb what we are being given at any particular moment. Or maybe our ability to comprehend. Some things are only clear in hindsight. It’s good to have those moments with those people who change our lives. Hard to lose them. There will always be the questions and we can never answer them. I suppose it is human nature to hope that friendship and love can reach people in those moments of deepest need. You are right about the duality of knowing. Thanks so much for taking the time to share your understanding.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Poems like this are written often...but they don't have the effect you provoke.
"the cruel bones of love"
"you rest in all-time and teach us/ how to be left."
Lines that leave imprints on the heart and soul of the reader.
This reminded me so much of someone I lost many years ago and reminds me of the last conversation we had before she passed...
There was definitely a hole that was left.
j.

[Eilis]

Hi, Jacob. Thank you for expressing how you understand this poem. The holes left by those souls who contribute meaning to our lives are never fully filled. Our remembrances keep their spirits alive. Thank you so much for your kind words.

[Einstein Noodle]

i think this is exquisite poetry .. very powerful in it's pain and loss .. reading makes the blood drain and takes away my words .. beautiful Ellis .. thanks for sharing
E.

[Eilis]

Hi, E. Thank you for those kind words. I appreciate hearing from you!

[s.azeem]

utensils are beautiful covered in cake batter. I loved your poem

thank you

[Eilis]

Thanks so much!

[Vol]

Eilis,
It is hard to imagine a more worthy remembrance, I think this poem is far more memorable and fitting than some great marble statue or crypt... walking away from your poem is impossible unlike a gravestone. All of your images and word choices here and, om my, your metaphors! "dead meyes, caked clatter, cruel bones of love and the river of dark," oh my... You are a powerful poet, indeed. I have lost three important loves to heart desease and stroke, so I am intimately familiar with "the hole" they have left... Beyond that, at seventy-five, the idea of moving out of this meat prison is on my mind in ways I did not know were there... You moved me...
(Oh and I love your name, I taught thousands of kids with many unusual names, but yours is unique and sounds good when it whistles)
Vol

[Eilis]

Hi, Vol. Thanks for your kind comment! I did hope the poem could be a memorial and what I love about poetry as a memorial is it grows and evolves as we do. As our understanding shifts. Loss does make you think of things you don’t often need to. And our own morality definitely comes to the fore. Thank you for engaging with the poem and sharing what it meant to you, I appreciate that so much.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

this piece goes somewhere very dark and very raw, but you approach it with an unrelenting and fearless attitude. that itself is commendable. yet it is stylistically alluring as well. this narrative you tell is of grief and loss, but one that is wholly unsentimental. it can be confusing to lose someone you had a tense relationship with: a blaze of different emotions are setoff. and this very taboo topic was dealt with fiercely.

just a note: 3rd stanza 'It was [a] talisman' methinks.

i am always looking forward to reading your work. it can be harrowing, but there is something i really like about it - though im not sure what that is.

[Eilis]

Thanks for reading, Ern. The poem is one I wrote a few months ago but have never really felt was done or particularly good. I just decided I should see how it fared among other poets. The tension you sense is probably more my own tense interaction with my life deconstructing itself at this moment. The stress and uncertainty of that. This is about a good friend I lost touch with who I discovered had passed when I reached out to say hello again. We supported each other through some difficult times and I felt a bit guilty that I didn’t have the chance to be there for him in the end. But it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Just the way life is. I did mean talisman as it was in the poem. It’s a nod to him and his style. He was a great poet. I perhaps need to work on this a bit more. It is maybe too raw. Thanks for your comments, they are appreciated.

[Ern M. Yoshimoto]

thanks for sharng your story. i have had a similar experience where a friend who i once talked out of suicide, later went on to finish it. it was a very starnge feeling - disbelief, mainly, but questions of what i could have done; even though i felt i did all i could.
regarding the tone of this poem, i think the quote atthe begning sufficiently warns the reader what they're in for. i do not think this work is devoid of hope, in fact, all poetry by its very existence is a sign of hope.
re-working is never a bad idea but when woring with something connected to so many emotions, it is hard to edit without altering its initial meaning.

please let me know if i can do anything for you. as usual, have a nice day.

[Eilis]

Hey, Ern. I’m sorry to hear of your experience with your friend. I think we always carry questions when we lose someone or have painful experiences. Thank you for your supportive response, it means a lot.