(A Poetic Approach to Historical Fiction)

On 05/21/2025, On a drive from Colorado to Illinois, My family and I made a stop to visit the home of the Lincolns in Springfield, Illinois. While we were in their home on a guided tour, I was fascinated by the story of Mary. I wondered to myself, while looking at some real things they owned and some true to the times replicas, “what was it like for Mary?”

She bore four sons and lost three of them before the age of twenty. Her grief must have been immense. I wrote a poem depicting what I think it felt like for her. In the voice of a modern day woman

Grief Feels

Like Someone

Ripped Off

Your Skin

Left You Bare

Exposed

To The Elements

Every Nerve

On Your Body

On Edge

Everything

A Trigger

Grief Tastes

Like Sand

In Your Teeth

You Rinse

Floss

Wash Your Mouth

But You Can’t Get

Rid of It

Grief Sounds

Too Loud,

Too Quiet,

Too Much

Like A Child

Learning

To Play

An Instrument

Grief Smells

Like That Stench

In Your Hair

That No Shampoo

Can Get Rid Of

No Matter

The Number

Of Washes