And she can hear them in her bones

by Elizabeth Jill

she locks
the gates
the doors
the windows

she closes
the blinds
the curtains
the pain

turns off
the phone
the radios
the noise

her fingers
her voice
her eyes

but the cruel

they just won't leave her alone.


they snicker and buzz like drones.

And she can hear them in her bones.


Posted on 07/11/2006
Copyright © 2022 Elizabeth Jill

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 07/11/06 at 04:32 PM

Moving piece and tribute to a little one. Adds new meaning to "suffer the children." Superbly done, both in message and visuals!

Posted by Christel Crews on 07/12/06 at 03:28 AM

oh, what an amazing person you are!!! and this piece is so beautiful, just reaching out your loving arms and wrapping them around her. i hope she does stay safe

Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 07/12/06 at 04:10 AM

...raise them up, as high as we can get them. Hold them till the unthinkable passes. Lovely, and so very moving, Jill.

Posted by Charles E Minshall on 07/12/06 at 04:59 AM

This touches the heart in a big way Jill....Charlie

Posted by Mara Meade on 07/12/06 at 12:51 PM

Precious Thea, and all of the children at the Breavement Centre... you have been a God-Send to them. What expressive poetry and the picture is so gentle, adding to the poignancy. I know why she is writing - you gave her the tools and encouragement to do this.

I know Diane's spirit through yours... and I'm blessed to share the dedication.

Posted by Kyle Anne Kish on 07/12/06 at 10:04 PM

What a beautiful and sad poem ... all rolled into one. With words you have way, Jill. You play and jump and skip and slide and hurt and cry until it comes out just right. I'm going to stock up on umbrellas. ((( Jilly Two Shoes ))) Love ya, Kyle-Annie-The-Footfall-Creeper

Posted by JD Clay on 07/13/06 at 03:07 AM

I see the symbology you've given this piece, Elizabeth. It starts out separated (torn if you will) then comes together in a healing jester. Truthful and chilling last line.

Posted by CM Bauer on 07/13/06 at 05:22 PM

So, wow. I think this may have given me the biggest wave of goosebumps I have ever had.

Posted by Mara Meade on 07/14/06 at 12:19 AM

Back for another read... the picture could well be you as a child, Jill. That is yet another layer to this, in MY mind, that makes it so haunting but blessed...

Posted by Julie Adams on 07/14/06 at 02:45 PM

this is such a truth we as human beings don't recognize enough, let alone work to beautifully encapsulated in your poetry and that telling picture, they cannnot be denied...the visual set up, breaks, etc. parallels the subject and mirrors the child's behavior...well, well done, Jill!...saving our world, one child at a time...thank you, peace to your giving heart, *jewels*

Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 07/16/06 at 04:38 AM

Amazing and so dear. What a beautiful child and picture, accenting the fragile beauty of the moment of being. "The word pariah, from Tamil paròaiyar the caste name, which literally means “(hereditary) drummer and comes from the word paròai, the name of a drum used at certain festivals" .. the music and power of these words as a ritual incantation of cleansing and praise for light and joy spread from one being to another. What a work you do, and so deeply and poetically expressed.

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 07/20/06 at 10:58 AM

beautiful, is this poem as is the ocean and the clouds even when I am not looking at either or listening.

Posted by David R Spellman on 07/23/06 at 12:52 PM

Hauntingly powerful and so tragic. God bless you for your concern and the care you give.

Posted by Michelle Angelini on 02/08/07 at 07:14 PM

Jill, sweet angel, you are a soul of tenderness and compassion. These children and adults are blessed to have you in their universe. The world is richer for anyone who knows you.

Posted by Joan Serratelli on 02/18/09 at 07:01 PM

she closes the blinds the curtains the pain ounds alot like ME! Especially liked this one- hits very close to home!

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