I Wave Goodbye or: (Copper’s Displacement)
by Erin E Kelly-Moen
Thursday, November 06, 2003
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It’s a part of life, here, in this mining town,
anywhere, really, people move.
That doesn’t stop the hurt
of supposed abandonment,
the winter-black windows
coldly shrug their indifference,
the light has gone out, the loss is final.
There’s a saying on a bumper sticker
stuck on my wall, near the ceiling,
“If it can’t be grown, it must be mined.”
This simple fact is stunning
in its depth of fundamentality.
Neighbors of similarity are hard to come by,
copper supercedes preferences,
allocating space to the first in line;
the mine’s need for laborers is great,
the need of personal progress is greater,
people move in, following their dreams,
people move on, discarding their dreams.
The dogs bark at each other
for the last time, Chihuahua voice
shrills to Shar-pei’s deep song of farewell
as the U-haul pulls away,
the last house on this dead-end street
struggles in the throes of relinquishment,
echoes with childish laughter,
resounds into my silent future,
mocking permanence of friendship.
Bereft, I wave goodbye.
Copyright 2003 ©
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|Reviewed by Ed Matlack
|I have seen personally the damage done by mines closing down in upstate PA. What a terrible tragedy not only to the families but to the towns...There seems so much hurt in this poem, thanks, Erin, Peace, ED & rufuz|
|Reviewed by Katy Walsvik
|"A terrible beauty is born..." <--- this was the first thing in my head, these words by W.B. Yeats.. had nothing to do with your poem, except there it was.. your poem is beauty, agonizing, painful, sensitive and moving... this fits all sorts of 'goodbye'.. what a useful, horrible word! What an achingly gorgeous piece. love, katy xox.|
|Reviewed by Kate Clifford
|Reviewed by Debashish Haar (Reader)
|Wonderful idea, well penned!|
|Reviewed by Adam Walsvik (Reader)
|Made me think of Tammy saying goodbye to her body. Sorry that's just where my head is at.
|Reviewed by Bhuwan Thapaliya
|Reviewed by Carmen Ruggero
|You made me feel the displacement. Life moving on from uncertainty to unknown. Good writing, Erin.