Poetry Friday--snowThis month I’ve been participating in Laura Shovan’s 8th Annual February Daily Poem challenge. This year ‘s theme is “Water”, and each day someone posts a related prompt. We share our fledgling poetic responses on a Facebook page, with the emphasis on idea generation and drafting, not polishing.

Earlier this month Kara Laughlin shared a video and pictures of slurpee waves. Whoa! How did I ever miss these? When temperatures get so cold that ice crystals start forming in the ocean, you have slurpee waves. They’re rare, rather unworldly-looking and utterly fascinating.


Photo credit to Jonathan Nimerfroh

Image result for slurpee waves

New York Times photo

Looking at the pictures, and thinking of a recent tragedy in the life of a friend, sparked this poem.


The very ocean
has transformed—
free flowing-waves
congealed to slushy surf.
My pulse rolls slowly
with this strange tide.
How do such things
come to pass?
I would have said
it was impossible.
Yet, here I stand
at the shore.
Without you.

Molly Hogan ©2020

This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by Cheriee at her blog Library Matters. She’s sharing a fascinating interview with Canadian poet, Avis Harley.  Be sure to stop by and check it out. You’ll absolutely come away richer for the experience.

17 thoughts on “Grief

  1. margaretsmn says:

    This poem expresses so beautifully that feeling of loss and the impossibility of it. How can we go on? Yet there’s the ocean that continues to wave.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’m blown away with your artistry. Does this friend follow your blog? Will you frame this for her? Love and light from California.

    Liked by 1 person

    • mbhmaine says:

      Thanks, Dan. I wish the pictures were mine, but sadly I’ve never witnessed this phenomenon. I suppose, like sea fog, it’s the upside to freezing weather. Our friend doesn’t follow my blog, and I’ve been debating about whether to share the poem or not. Perhaps I will.

      Liked by 1 person

      • katswhiskers says:

        I would, Molly. You have such an exquisite way with words. Even if it causes an ocean of tears, it will also be helpful/healing – to know you care so much, and your friend is not alone. Grief comes in waves – and this poem will mean different things at different times. Love to you.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. haitiruth says:

    So beautiful, and you’re right – that’s exactly how it feels. Ruth,

    Liked by 1 person

    • mbhmaine says:

      Ruth, I so wanted to comment on your post today but wasn’t able to. I kept getting a sad face when I tried–I think it mirrored my own! At any rate, your post was fabulous from start to finish. I loved the names of your birds, your brother’s message and the creative energy involved in you transforming his words into your fabulous poem. And warblers! Got to love those warblers! (It made me happy to know that we see some of the same birds 🙂


  4. Linda Mitchell says:

    The cold aloneness of grief…right there. Well said.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. lindabaie says:

    It is a beautiful expression of loss. Something about “Yet here I stand” touches me profoundly.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. cweichel says:

    Oh Molly, your poem transported me back to those times when grief for people I loved was this raw.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I read your poem, Molly, and it gave me chills. I read it a second time and chills again. I guess you chose the right metaphor, since that slushy ice keeps traveling up and down my spine each time I read your words.


  8. Kay Mcgriff says:

    Your poem expresses so well what grief feels like–life goes on but it is so hard to get through those days–just like those waves are sluggish and cold and otherworldly.


  9. kareneastlund4898 says:

    Gorgeous poem, very evocative of our feelings of grief. Thank you…


  10. laurashovan222 says:

    Molly, that semi-solid ice — the impossibly transformed waves — the slushy movement, together they make a perfect metaphor for how grief feels in our bodies.


  11. Moving poem Molly – an unreal helplessness–you captured it well.


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