August
Emily,
Were you waiting for me?
Did you find me in your garden
And speak my secret name?
We are wicks
Twinly lit
Darling, we hold
The flame.
Emily,
Did you press an oak leaf to your lips?
Wishing for her lips
That never softly came?
We are women
Who burn for women
Darling, we hold
The flame.
Emily,
Did you see me?
Another bound in books
That fair Divinity contain?
We ache for night
And fever bright
Darling, we hold
The flame.
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I like the simplicity of form you've used here and the repitition works well.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Craft Green Poet. A friend took me to visit the Dickinson Homestead last August, and it was a profound experience for me.
ReplyDeletei just love this poem from beginning to end, it is just so evocative, speaks to me, and makes all my nerve endings tingle. :-)
ReplyDeleteI love this poem Shay,
ReplyDeleteso beautifully intimate.
...and I love that reaction, Kelly! Burn on, woman!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Cynthia, that's how the experience felt to me when it happened; intimate.
ReplyDeletei love when i want to come back to a poem, to experience it again, and this one is it for me... among a few others... thanks Shay, for writing, for being you, for bringing feelings to life... Kx
ReplyDeleteKelly, I'm pleased you came back to this one! I put in the "Fireblossom's Favorites" so that at least some of my darlings would not get buried. You might also want to check out my list of favorite poets...
ReplyDelete;-)
This is gorgeous:
ReplyDelete"Did you press an oak leaf to your lips?
Wishing for her lips
That never softly came?"
i just had to come back... it is one of my very favourites... melodic, haunting, deep, sensual... the connection x
ReplyDelete