The River Carries Her
(after Faulkner, in Darl’s voice)
The wagon groans like a throat in fever,
mules shuddering at the smell of her,
cedar box sweating in the sun.
I see the boards warp
as if her breath still presses from inside,
as if she is not yet done speaking.
The sky leans low,
its clouds dragging their bellies in the river.
Jewel rides ahead,
his horse cutting the current into ribbons.
Anse’s hat brim drips
with the same water that swallows our wheels.
Dewey Dell’s eyes are a locked jar.
Vardaman watches the fish in his head swim away.
I hear her —
not in words,
but in the way the air thickens
when the coffin tilts,
in the way the buzzards
write her name in circles above us.
The river takes her weight,
then gives it back.
We keep moving,
because to stop
would be to hear what she has been saying all along.
.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 10th, 2025 05:27
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Bella Shepard, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments6
I don't know what it is about the wording of this piece but it brings to mind Steinbeck so well imaged. Very nicely done Cryptic
Now that is interesting, Soren. I was engaging with Faulkner and ended up sounding like Steinbeck. That's funny in a way. Perhaps I should look into this. 🕊️🙏
Help?
This poem channels the voice of Darl Bundren, one of the central narrators in William Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying, a novel that follows a rural Southern family’s harrowing journey to bury their matriarch, Addie Bundren, in her hometown. Told through fragmented, often stream-of-consciousness monologues, the novel explores grief, identity, and the breakdown of language.
In the poem, Darl’s voice becomes a vessel for sensory and psychic impressions as the family’s wagon—bearing Addie’s coffin—crosses a river. The imagery is visceral and haunting: the coffin seems to breathe, the sky droops, the river swallows and returns her weight. Each family member is rendered through symbolic detail—Jewel’s defiant motion, Dewey Dell’s emotional repression, Vardaman’s surreal confusion, and Anse’s passive persistence.
The river itself becomes a metaphor for memory, resistance, and the unspoken truths Addie carried. Darl senses her presence not through speech, but through atmosphere—the buzzards, the tilt of the coffin, the thickening air. The final lines suggest that movement is a form of denial; stopping would mean confronting the full weight of her silence.
I see, it seemed dark, I thought at she may have been still alive.
Ooh! Yes, that twist died come to mind briefly but decided to keep faith with the inspiring story. But yes, I see how that may have been suggested. Hope it wasn’t too muddled up. 🕊🙏🏻
Powerful work.
Thanks Thomas 🕊️🙏
Stunning imagery, with a pic that magnifies the feeling of grief and loss. This is beautiful!
Most appreciated, dear Bella. Thank you for a superb review in a nutshell! 🙏🕊️
I enjoyed this ; especially the second Stanza.
Some fine descriptive work.
Thanks Kevin. That truly means a lot. 🕊🙏🏻
Yes indeed, my dear friend…this carries Faulkner’s ghost, but in your own cadence. The grief, the weight, the motion that cannot stop...you’ve rendered it powerfully. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛ Very well done!
A small achievement there as Faulkner had been a bit elusive to me back in the day. So this is a personally useful bit of feedback here and now. Thanks mate 🕊🙏🏻
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