final prognosis different clouds on the horizon
Published by
Marion Clarke
Marion Clarke is a poet and visual artist from Warrenpoint, Northern Ireland. She has been studying and writing haiku for over a decade and her work features regularly in international journals. Winner of two Sakura awards in the the Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival Haiku Contest, and shortlisted in the Touchstone Awards, Clarke?s poetry is included by invitation in two national collections of haiku from the island of Ireland. A selection of her poetry and artwork is at http://seaviewwarrenpoint.wordpress.com/ View all posts by Marion Clarke
""prognosis" won't do.
Too clunky.
final clouds
slumbering
on the horizon.
Oh, how I wish it had been as poetic as this, Gatry.
Thanks for commenting.
marion
A mix of different kinds of words is effective. Prognosis is powerful.
Thanks for that vote of confidence, Alison.
marion
Hmm, yes that's prettier – but to me it doesn't doesn't express the same hard to digest emotion. It's a 'nice' view of loss, expressed by an onlooker.
You have nailed it here, Patsy – cancer is not pretty.
marion
Gary, I want to be clear: tinywords is not a workshop site. We're looking for responses to the haiku and micropoems published here, or for polite comments. Not critiques. There are plenty of other places to critique or workshop haiku.
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final prognosis different clouds on the horizon
—MARION CLARKE
I am so sorry for your loss. Even without knowing a little background, I would know this is a close member of your family.
Those first two words really hit hard and yet you do something magical with the next words. Haunting, poignant, and yet oddly uplifting as we make precious of what little time any of us have left.
warm regards,
Alan
I love your reading, Alan. Thank you.
marion
I disagree with Gatry Michael Dault…"prognosis" is key to the authenticity of this piece. I'm also not sure it refers to the loss of a loved one. I took it to be about a literal change in some health related journey and how that now impacts the view of the future. Either way, I love the chosen imagery. Very nice.
Thank you, Karen. Yes that word was key. This referred to events leading up to the death of my youngest sister from cancer a few months ago. Thank you for commenting.
marion
I am deeply sorry for your loss…thank you for sharing your words.
Thank you, Karen. I miss her so much.
marion
Great monostich, Marion.
Thank you, Maggie – so lovely to hear from you! Thank you for commenting.
marion
ice storm
chemotherapy
postponed
This is so hard hitting, Sue, thank you for sharing.
marion
This was powerful for me too; anyone facing serious illness of self or a loved one knows those sometimes heavy, sometimes teasing, shape-shifting clouds, and that horizon of hope … thank you.
test results conclusive still I ask the same question
Thank you, Jane. There was always hope, even when the prognosis seemed bad. That's why the end result still devastated.
Sorry you experienced this. Your monostich nails it.
marion
Very moving
Thank you, Alison.
marion
I’m pleased your weighty haiku made it in the early part of the new year, where hope abounds. In all of our bright hope, there are some who traveled into it with cloud disturbances trailing.
Jan Benson
Thanks for your kind words, Jan. Yes, cloud disturbances trailing pretty much sums it up.
marion
This one touched me deeply, as do so many of your poems, Marion. Well done.
That's so kind of you to say, Barbara. Thank you.
marion
Deeply touching. What a difference a day makes. Thank you.
Thanks, Karen. Indeed.
marion
I'm so sorry about your sister's passing, Marion. This is a beautiful and deeply touching poem. Those first two words are so powerful…and then the magic comes.
Thank you so much, Mary.
marion
beautiful & thought-provoking.
Thank you, Dawn.
Well done, Marion.
Thanks, Patsy.
anyone facing serious illness of self or a loved one knows those sometimes heavy
Thank you for commenting, hoa.
marion