A Place in the Woods

A poem about grief, loss, and the desire to return to something that no longer exists.

The father goes into the sea of trees to die and lies down and waits.

The son goes to visit each day knowing that each visit may be the last, and that 

nothing should remain unsaid.

They sit and say very little.

The son returns less often and stays for less time each visit.

Finally one day he forgets to go.

Now years later, the son looks for the place in the woods, but he can’t find it.

He finally just sits in a place that he knows isn’t it.

He says nothing.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

This one describes a situation that occurs frequently in real life. A parent facing the end withdraws and the grown child finds no way to communicate and gives up. Then years later, the child faces the same situation and repeats the performance. These things can be the breeding grounds for sorrow and guilt. I notice you describe yourself as "hardly a writer." I beg to disagree.

[jen]

simple acts to show real love become so close that we are sure we will never release or forget them. Life interferes and we adjust and alter. We may not be in the woods but we are because those things that are in our lives in the real for such meaningful reasons don't just leave us because we aren't physically present. They are either with us or they are for a while and we forget. I really, really liked this poem. Some of us are the parent at one point and the child.

[Sherri Moshman Paganos]

Nicely done, kind of a Zen truth about human nature, grief fading but not totally and then regret.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

sometimes we get so caught up, so lost in our grief, that we lose our place in life.
This poem is so good...and captures the awful sadness of losing a family member.
the last line says it all...."He says nothing"
I relate so much to this...my folks were married 70 years...when my mom passed, my dad was lost...and sometimes, just said "nothing."

j.

[Samuel Dickens]

I believe there's a deep meaning to this. Isn't this sort of thing so true? I sorely regret not spending more time with my father. Others, also. We have our time, and it is limited. I don't usually find anything in a poem worth remembering, but I will this.

[Relic]

This is pretty powerful writing. It's as though he's looking for the old familiar routines and the father he loved but can't find them.

The last line hits hard. He's looking, waiting, but nothing happens.

Great poem.