Death can feel so ominous — so frightening — lurking in the corners of life with shadow cat’s eyes. I spent much of my younger life interpreting death as something terrible — something to be avoided and never talked about. Death was fanged and wicked and full of sorrow. But as I’ve grown from a girl into a woman, I’ve tried to understand death as something more natural…something moving and inevitable. Sad — yes — but also beautiful.
I first read the work of Traci Brimhall when I was in college, and in many ways her writing helped me to reevaluate and reconsider death. I wrote once before about a poem she wrote, but today I want to share her book, “Rookery.” It is a collection of poems, but one that reads more like an intimate, gut-wrenching memoir (though as readers we don’t know whether the experiences written about are Brimhall’s specifically).
Not every single poem in the book is about death or grief, but both of these themes are laced throughout the entire collection. Many of the poems are simply about loss — sometimes, but not always, due to death.
No matter the subject, Brimhall writes with incredible rawness; every line is bursting with emotion. The way Brimhall describes scenes of death is at once touching and visceral. There’s an infinite sadness in her words, but also an overwhelming sense of hope and beauty. At one point she writes:
“My sister asks what ate the bird’s eyes
as she cradles the dead chickadee she found
on the porch. Ants, I say, knowing the soft, ocular
cells are the easiest way into the red feast of heart,
liver, kidney. I tell her that when they ate the bird
they saw the blue bowled sky, the patchwork
of soybean fields and sunflowers…
already they are bringing
back to their tunnels the slow chapters of spring—”
Another poem leaves readers with this touching sentiment,
“…My father told me we are like stars.
When we go, we take the light with us.”
Just reading these bits and pieces of Brimhall’s writing fills me with emotion. Her poems often leave me in tears, but in a way that makes me thankful for everyone in my life. Her writing reminds me of my family, of my childhood, of the losses I’ve endured, and — more importantly — of the love that remains, even when the loss feels unbearable.
Brimhall’s book “Rookery” paints death, and loss, and grief as it truly is – real, messy and sad. But she also never lets her readers forget that death is a natural, inevitable part of life, and as such we ought to cherish the moments we have. And, when death does occur, she reminds us that even in loss, there is beauty, healing and love.
“I know there is a beauty
we must die to reach
but I have come
this far, and there are crumbs on the table and wine
in my glass. The moon is full, and tonight the sky
looks wide, wild and endless.”