Vox Populi
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Karen Friedland: Tattered Curtains
That sweet, New England-starchy old man
in an ancient bathrobe
who always reached down and scratched
behind my old dog’s ears,
who lived for years in that ramshackle green
ranch-house down the street
.
must have died, because they’re taking down
all the big trees in his back yard,
and next the shrubs, and now the small house itself,
in just one day,
that bore the same frayed, plaid bachelor curtains
for years.
.
And another old soul has gone up in smoke
and drifts away, along with the souls
of the big, leafy green trees
that lived as if forever in his overgrown back yard.
Copyright 2019 Karen Friedland
Karen Friedland’s Places That Are Gone is available from Nixes Mate Books.
Vox Populi 
A deeply moving, fluid, beautiful lament…
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Thank you so much for your thoughtful comments, folks–I really appreciate them!
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Thanks for the beautiful poem, Karen!
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Such pain in so few words. Thank you.
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So well done. Made me terribly sad. Beautiful poem.
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Beautiful poem Karen. A reminder to
notice people and places everyday💗
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The poem creates such a sense of incantation, by using one long sentence, and then one shorter. Also, by repetition of Old: old man, old dog, old soul. It’s a situation we can relate to, spoken well. Flows onward.
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