The Falconer

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Some things should stay buried

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“Some Things Should Stay Buried” by Ciarra Philpott reflects on the inner experience and struggle of bringing old people and feelings from the past to light. Philpott creates a dark yet inviting space for the reader, “Have a seat, make yourself at home.” She provides enough room in her poem to transport the reader to a specific time and space, completely manipulating the scene with imagery and beautiful metaphors.

Some Things Should Stay Buried

by Ciarra Philpott

Last night, I made the mistake of digging you up.

Two hands on rusted metal, I hardly noticed rocks

That chipped away at the hope between my ribs.

Suddenly, I am the dark moons under eyes that

Broke down before tires made an escape. I am   

Burning alcohol that is only an excuse

For decisions made in haste and a half empty mind.

Months of alone but still I sit here, in rooms that cry for color

Because I am the black and white in every picture we ever took.

So I will shape the feathers I picked from your mountain

To look like a ship, frosted in blue mornings

Alive on the water, and ready to set sail.

I will choose to remember only rivers that drowned

Things I chose when my heart was real.

The way a voice dipped in arrows

Could always find a way to rip armor

From the unexpecting flesh of a lover

Whose pen only drank ink for you.

A warrior in red with one last fight

And only half a weapon to sink,

I choose to remember how your soft rain

Turned to storms

Which then brought hurricanes

Turning weather vanes lost

And all my books to worthless.

Now I lay this shovel down

Hearing daisies

Hidden in wild hair

Remind me that

I could never

Survive you

Twice

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Some things should stay buried