Sorry. WordPress bugged out on me. First it reformatted things, and then it put up this post three days ago. Yeah, you read that right–it published as three days ago. WTF? No clue. I don’t like overwhelming those who read my blog, especially with sad poetry. Egads, that’s annoying. But it went up and some people saw it, commented. In my attempt to fix things, I might have lost those comments. If you did and don’t see it here, I hope you’ll leave it again. In the end, it was just too frustrating to fix completely so I let it stay up. Peace.


The hook’s gone up her nose, her brain

pulled out, an incision cut

organs removed and left

to dry in the desert sun.

Lungs and intestines, stomach and liver

In limestone jars watched over

by Hapy, Qebehsenuef,

Duamutef and Imsety.

Her heart goes back into her body

The piece of it that’s his alone

Her body is washed with wine and spices

covered in salt, a curing ham.

She’s stuffed like a taxidermy fox

Sand giving back her shape but

harder than it was,

As it has to be now.

She’s wrapped carefully in linen, preserved

Placed in a box and stored away. Waiting

for the rest of her still alive and loving.

Still happy to be a wife, a mother, a grandmother.

A daughter, a sister, an aunt.

A writer, a friend.

Knowing she’s dead doesn’t make her less alive

It’s only that piece of her

He took with him when he left.

Preserved and waiting in the dark.



Filed under poetry

2 responses to “Preserved

  1. I see your soul, and feel your anguish. I wish you much love and comfort, and send you warm hug so.


    • Terri-Lynne DeFino

      Thank you, darling. This kind of hit me last night on the way home in the car, how Chris’ mother is like a little mummy now, all preserved and set aside. It seems kinda dark, but it didn’t feel that way, thinking about it. 🙂


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