plain as pie,
that seems only to lack babushka and shawl.
Such a woman as me should live a hundred miles from Kiev,
looking up, seeing
sun, then moon,
sun, then moon,
a million times and then some.
Who is the white angel, the blonde daughter of a czar,
who whispers in my good ear?
And who is the dark angel, the changeling from a doorstep,
who whispers in my other, as I dream?
I have the broad peasant face,
plain as pie,
that seems to close like a cardboard suitcase.
Such a woman as me might sleep a hundred miles past her stop,
all the while seeing
sun, then moon,
sun, then moon,
a million times in fascination.
______
I can see why you couldn't edit this down to 55 words.
ReplyDeleteI love the repetition in stanzas one and three. I like the idea of reading a hundred miles past my stop but sleep is becoming more and more likely these days!
I too love the repetition, and the last line...is a gem.
ReplyDeleteA gypsy. Wanderlust. Follow your dream. I would love her life.
ReplyDeleteI LOVE this poem! Seriously. A hundred miles from Kiev. Perfect! and the face that closes like a cardboard suitcase. How do you DO this? Love sun, then moon, a million times. This was such a delight to read.
ReplyDeleteI love the middle stanza, and the addition of "in fascination" at the end. Oh yes, and like Sherry said, the cardboard suitcase.
ReplyDelete"Such a woman as me might sleep a hundred miles past her stop,"
ReplyDeleteMundane Marvelous as USUAL, my unusually talented friend-
ALOHA from Honolulu
ComfortSpiral
=^..^= . <3 . >< } } (°>
Damn, I responded earlier! Your poem enchants me. I had a memory when I read it, of a woman in Alaska who watched my son and I sitting on a bench. She was foreign, plain and potato shaped with three kids. She wore a kerchief, worn boots and a skirt-I thought she looked Russian. She kept smiling at me, making contact. Then she got up and left her children and went in a store. I think she was desperate and I watched her children. Her eyes and the nod of her head-thanked me. I knew she was observing us, but wasn't sure why until I saw her move. I love the photo with the bear-because this memory was in Alaska-home of the Grizzly.
ReplyDeleteI love these lines:
"I have the broad peasant face,
plain as pie,
that seems to close like a cardboard suitcase."
Wow, Fireblossom-this one is my new favorite!
My maternal grandmother was Polish, and saw lots of suns and moons and maybe there's something to how women from that part of the world can still see things in fascination. She could ~
ReplyDeleteYou embrace all women in this as we see the sun and moon a million times in fascination. I love it.
ReplyDeleteReally beautiful Shay--with the true peace and beauty of those who are close to sun, moon and soil, yet who have angels and demons sleeping beside them.
ReplyDeleteI've always said that I have peasant ankles! Love this and I absolutely love your sidebar photo with the cuties and their story!
ReplyDeleteA lovely poem and vision, Shay. The details are particularly poignant-- the cardboard suitcase. I think all have their good and dark angels . Thanks k. Manicddaily
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you didn't try to cut this down. It's perfect.
ReplyDeleteI love the repetition and the mirrored lines that cyclically bracket this poem that feels very folk-lore-y, to me. Excellent image, too.
ReplyDeletegod, this is good, Sis! sometimes i sit and try to write a poem in your style ~ meaning original, unique combinations of words that create unexpected visuals... it's beyond me.
ReplyDelete(as great as this is, when reading "I have the broad peasant face" my mind went to Arnold Schwarzenegger's mistress. sorry!)
♥
Love your peasant woman, love you lines.
ReplyDelete