Beneath Thorny Brambles

“All things that have form eventually decay.” -Orochimaru” 

― Masashi Kishimoto

There beneath thorny brambles
a tuft of soft fur devoid of life
a scattering of chalky bones
all that’s left-
remnants of a tiny soul

With those final dying breaths,
did her mind hasten her away
to the flowering meadow
where she once played?

©2020 Linda Lee Lyberg

I’ll be the host today at dVerse Poets Pub for Quadrille Monday. The pub opens at 3PM EST, so come join in!

Linda Lee Lyberg is a wife, mother, artist, published poet and author. She resides in Mesa, AZ with her husband Pete (aka The Big Viking) of 24 years, and her dog, Ricky Bobby. Linda writes various forms of poetry, as well as short stories. You can read more of her works at:
and purchase anthologies containing her work here: Amazon Author Page

56 Comments on “Beneath Thorny Brambles

  1. I’m sure Luna, the largest of our cats and a hunter, has frightened any rabbits away. How I would love to see some in the garden, instead of moles! How sad that all that’s left is fur and ‘a scattering of chalky bones’.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. A hare’s breath from perfect. Those of us that hiked wild places, we have chanced upon quite a few chalky bones. Actually, in time insects and weather
    ingest and hide those bones. They say that’s why we cannot find remains of Sasquatch.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This is so beautifully poignant with the imagery of wilting or death. The final few lines–wow, they were impactful! Dear poetess, you made me tear up a bit there. It made me think back to the outdoors when I was a child playing in the park with the grass, dirt and trees.

    This poem is absolutely amazing, heartfelt with in-depth themes of mourning and perhaps fading away. Excellent, excellent piece here.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This is wonderful, Linda. Whether we imagine a rabbit or a person, it raises the question of what remains at the end of a life. Is it a mere shell, or a testament to the life it held?

    Liked by 1 person

  5. kaykuala

    With those final dying breaths,
    did her mind hasten her away
    to the flowering meadow

    The soul apparently has a way of deciding its direction in the afterlife. It is perhaps an appeal in mind hoping for the best!


    Liked by 1 person

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