the raspberry leaves
serrated, corrugated
fall with whispers of autumn
she knows she’s dying
she says, but doesn’t feel it
in her bones, at least not yet
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Susan Daniels Poetry 
sometimes i do feel my mortality and it frightens me a bit…love the raspberry leaves in this..
Claudia, thank you! Just came out. Was editing a report, and the last bit was what a patient with a terminal illness had said. Sigh.
its the difference between the heart and the mind eh? we logically know but are not ready to accept it…love the texture in the first stanza…the serrated/corrugated..that whole stanza, i like much.
Thanks, Brian. One of those that just falls from the fingertips, that first stanza. Heat-wave inspired 😉
Oh Susan…I do LOVE this.. tweeted! love the metaphors here.
Thank you, Rhonda!
This took my breath away. Just can’t imagine KNOWING one is dying.
Mary, neither can I. What this woman said was so compelling.
This can be read in several ways. Either someone is close to dying or it’s more fatality,,, we are all dying. Love that you leave it open ended.
Bjorn, I agree–it can be either. We are all dying. Some of us learn how soon–the rest of us are kept guessing.
I love the imagery of raspberry leaves ~ Beautiful sedoka Susan ~
Thank you, Grace.
This is really gorgeous, Susan.
Mama, thank you!
Lovely image of the raspberry leaves, and thesecond stanza is so poignant.
Thony, thank you. When inspiration blends what is outside the door with what is read on the computer screen…
loved the hope in this
Thank you. It is always there, isn’t it?
Thought-provoking and powerful.
Laurie, thank you so much!
Yeah, Susan, you did a Sedoka, and did it beautifully. I love this. As a former hospice nurse I’ve learned that people who are dying accept what they can when they can. It’s all so individual.
Victoria–I so agree. Somehow what she said and the way she said it was so compelling.
Holy smokes that’s good! It has a Jane Kenyon feel to it for me (a grand compliment in my book). I have a growing fondness for these short Asian forms–this inspires me to focus a little effort in that direction. Great work!
Thank you, Nico–appreciate the comment very much, and I think I need to explore this form more.
The metaphor was so vibrant and the form was such a great support – not yet in the bones. I am supposing it’s then when patients might give up – when you feel everything is giving way. Love your work always, and this was no exception. Great to be reading (you) again!
Gay–thank you so much, and the feeling is mutual!
Oh my is this a beautiful sedoka. It amazes me how the short poems can say so much more at times. Just wonderful!
Linda, thank you! I loved this form, and will probably work more with it soon.
So powerful, beautifully and succinctly written… I marvel, this is a bit of what I tried to say with mine and well… you’re obviously a master. 🙂
No, no, no–you said it so well–I loved it.
Thanks Susan, You’re very kind 😉
loved your tidal pool.
Very nice sedoka! I guess we can’t have raspberry leaves forever…
Unfortunately, no…
This lovely work resonates with me. My dear friend vibrant full of life, last year was given the death sentence (cancer) and died a month later. It is still hard to come to terms with it..
Cressida, so very, very sorry for your loss.
All roads lead but to the grave; we just postpone the inevitable by our every day actions. Deep poem, Susan.
Thanks, Celestine!
The allusion here is so prominent and striking ! Your message as well reminds us of how real death is indeed.
Wow–thank you for the comment!
Raspberries and death…that actually sounds lovely. Penned beautifully and I too love how it can be interpreted a number of ways. I’m at peace with death but hope I don’t know and that it’s peaceful…like your writing. I’d probably choose lavender as a last scent if given a choice but raspberries would be my second. Beautiful!
Maggie, thank you! This was the result of a fascinating convergence of that image, plus what I was editing at the time. I love those gifts fromt he universe.