Sunday, January 15, 2012

Christmas Jane

Christmas Jane loses her seasonal job,
And so she returns to Summer,
Long days on the high grasslands
Laid out flat on the back of a silent black horse, she sleeps in the sun.

Christmas Jane eats peyote,
And hears bells.
There are no churches out here;
Just the wind that's born at the ends of her hair,
Making it long to travel.

Christmas Jane sends a post card home;
Sleeps with a guy in the heat mirage morning,
And with a girl under the stars that night.

It is not so bad, this loose wandering.
She loves the buffalo herds, both ghostly and real,
And stays between their hooves, light as a feather, easy and unharmed.

Christmas Jane loves the Autumn,
The fires that begin,
And the smoke in the air.
Whoever she is, she isn't Christmas Jane anymore,
But her black horse will carry her across the frost
To the next place,
Always,
With a nicker she interprets
As a prayer.

______

13 comments:

hedgewitch said...

'just the wind that's born at the ends of her hair/making it long to travel...' Love the enormous sense in this poem of freedom and release. The seasons seem invested with life and personality, even as Jane seems to let those things all merge, while letting loss wash over her and move on. Lovely, insightful poem, Shay.

Helen said...

I feel the wind in my hair, landscape flying by, I'm free falling .. feeling good.

Brian Miller said...

lovely textures to jane...a free spirit roaming...i like to the horse prayers..and bells in the wind at the end of her hair...lovely shay

Lisa Ricard Claro said...

Oh, to be so free and unencumbered by the normal and routine day-to-day responsibilities we create for ourselves. Lovely imagery.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

This poem - and story - could not be any more beautiful. I absolutely relished every single word - all the hooves, the horse's back, the buffalos, and, especially the "nicker she interprets as a prayer". BEAUTIFUL, kiddo.

TALON said...

As always, Shay, your poetry transports me.

Mama Zen said...

This made me smile. Perhaps, there is hope after all.

Lust With Wings said...

Makes me feel like a dreaming child.

HermanTurnip said...

Very understated and ethereal. Here's hoping that Jane eventually finds solitude in an earthly pursuit.

Cloudia said...

" Christmas Jane eats peyote,
And hears bells.
There are no churches out here;
Just the wind that's born at the ends of her hair "

I think we dated back when. . .



Aloha from Waikiki
Comfort Spiral

> < } } ( ° >

><}}(°>

Marian said...

how can you sleep on the back of a horse? that's gonna bug me. :)

Helen said...

Wandering and grazing is good ...

myheartslovesongs said...

beautiful! your poem and all the horses! i haven't heard that song in years!

{astronauts?}{giggle}