An apostrophe is a direct address to something inanimate, someone not living. Think of scripture when the psalmist talks to death and the grave: O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? (1 Cor. 15) or the Ralph Stanley song (“O, Death”), popularized in the George Clooney movie, O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Prompt: Write a poem addressing a person, perhaps someone from whom you are estranged, maybe a favorite poet, a historical figure, a musician you’ve admired OR write a poem in which you talk to an object, a thing, something you deem useful or something you look at as frivolous or time-wasting or ridiculous – a hair brush, a pair of socks, a pairing knife, your favorite pajamas OR write a poem addressing an abstract quality like loneliness, patriotism, heartbreak, joy.
I wrote an apostrophe to King David, published in my first collection, Strange Fire. Here it is again, with revisions formatted a little differently than the original.
Apostrophe to David
Beautiful boy, we feel your taut, sinewy muscles as you poise
yourself, rock-ready to fell the giant and your nervousness.
We surmise that Goliath, distracted by your fine physique,
lost his life before Philistine hosts, that Bathsheba,
lured by your charisma, like ladybugs drawn to sunshine,
undressed herself on rooftop. And Saul, who summoned
you to play the harp – did he grow jealous and melancholy
as his eyes met yours? Even the Almighty fell for you,
handpicking you king, deeming you a man after His own heart.
Oh, mighty one in stone! We’ve defended you as gentle
shepherd, poet-musician, prophet-priest pointing to another
chosen. Even after relationships as fragile as robin’s eggs,
you were still The David. Paragon of virtue. Larger than life.
Of mythic stature.
But is art reality? Beauty, truth?
For when you were stricken with years, you could not
constrain the cold, despite the many blankets.
(Photo of The David by Wu at Unsplash)