Shownotes
The Grief that Grips Our World
Raquel Dionísio Abrantes
Silver waters whisper
amidst slender branches
where sisters bathe. My twin
of bone and moss whose woe
I fold like my grandmother folded
her husband’s pants —
carefully, and in silence. Come,
feral storm. Let us
be washed from the grief
that grips our world tonight.
More from Raquel Dionísio Abrantes ↓
- @poets_desk on Instagram
Mentioned in this episode:
Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only
Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice.
We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.
#WriteAfterOPO
