Let me be the ribs
around your lungs,
embracing your every breath,
When you breathe no more
you may break each piece of me,
and grind me till a fine powder.
Submit me to the earth
So the dust I was
Is the dust I became.
Gnaw on my bones
and suck from me every last nutrient
spit me out to the dogs
let them pulverise my structure.
Feed me to a shallow grave
And run the soft land across me.
The warmth and moistness of the ground
is an ironic embrace.
and run, run far,
dust the remnants from you,
dry your tears,
for the sky will swell with grief,
and the clouds will cry for me.
For dust I was
and as dust I must return.
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Canary word: Present
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125,005 Literary Works • 672,796 Reviews
Hey. I really enjoyed this. I think the mark of a good poem is that there is nothing distracting about it. Usually at some point in a poem there will be a line that just sounds like clanging to your ear. I didn't find that line in this poem. Well done.
I really liked this poem, and I mean reaaaally liked it. But your cryptic use of metaphors hides the true meaning, a little too well. I mean, it's called dust to dust, but at the beginning the person who's narrating this is being described as bones. But later on they're described as dust. A little confusing, bu I think I got the gist of it.
Anyway,
Technical stuf: good
Emotion and voice: good
Ideas and word choice: good
Overall: very good.
Keep writing and sharing!
w&w