A Journey Through Loss and the Search for Connection in New Poetry
A new collection of poems grapples with the complexities of grief, longing, and the search for meaning in the face of loss. The work, presented in two distinct sections, explores both the raw pain of bereavement and the restorative power of nature and human connection.
The first section centers around a hunting trip, a stark and visceral encounter with mortality. The poem opens with a directive – “Step where I step,” – immediately establishing a dynamic between two figures navigating a rugged landscape. The imagery is immediate and grounded: “quick, quiet over oak root,” “rustle of hoof and pulp of blood.” This isn’t a romanticized view of the wilderness, but a brutal, honest portrayal of life and death intertwined.
The hunter’s “shame-shadowed” face reveals a deep discomfort with the consequences of his actions, a recognition of the “animal’s pain.” The pursuit of the wounded buck becomes a metaphor for a larger, more elusive search. The repeated attempts to approach the deer, only to have it “lumber beyond sight,” suggest a fundamental inability to fully grasp or control the forces of nature – or perhaps, the inevitability of loss itself.
The poem culminates in a moment of quiet contemplation as the hunter climbs a bur oak, “look[ing] past light, past knowing.” He’s searching for a sign, a revelation, but finds only the realization of how the buck “would die: slow and alone in the mouth of the woods.” The final lines, rich with evocative imagery – “Scarlet waxing the moon of a tick. Blackberry sheen of a buzzard’s coat” – paint a haunting picture of decay and the cyclical nature of life.
Finding Solace in Shared Experience
The second section shifts in tone, moving from the solitary struggle of the hunt to a shared experience of loss and resilience. The poem describes a journey up a mountain, a deliberate act of seeking solace through physical exertion. The act of tying coats to trees – “the clumsy knots of their arms a gift, an embrace” – is a poignant symbol of connection and a temporary relinquishing of burdens.
The landscape itself becomes a source of comfort and renewal. The air thins, the land turns blue, and there’s a sense of lightness and coolness. The poem emphasizes the beauty of the natural world and the restorative power of shared effort. It’s Christmas, a time traditionally associated with hope and new beginnings, but the approaching darkness introduces a note of foreboding.
The poem takes a turn as the path disappears, swallowed by brush, and a “needling cold” sets in. The realization that “he was afraid” is particularly striking, revealing a vulnerability that was previously hidden. Even as he climbs a white pine, searching for a sign of home, there’s a sense of desperation and uncertainty. The final lines, “Look how he sways in the treetop, we thought. See how his head brushes the sky,” are both beautiful and unsettling, hinting at a precarious balance between hope and despair.
These poems, taken together, offer a powerful meditation on loss, longing, and the enduring human need for connection. They don’t offer easy answers, but instead invite readers to confront the complexities of grief and find meaning in the midst of suffering. The work resonates with the universal human experience of loss, as explored in countless poems throughout history, from Dylan Thomas’s defiant “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night” to Emily Dickinson’s serene contemplation of death. The poems, like those discussed in a recent series on writing through grief, highlight the cathartic power of poetry and its ability to help us process and share our experiences.
The exploration of nature as a metaphor for the self, as Lucia Coppola does in her work “Talking With Trees,” is also present here, suggesting that confronting loss requires a deep engagement with the natural world and a willingness to embrace the cyclical nature of life and death. The poems ultimately leave the reader with a sense of both sorrow and hope, a recognition that even in the darkest of times, there is still beauty to be found and connections to be made.
