I folded a love letter
inside a bible
and left them both
on a table
in the garden
overnight
in the rain.
As expected,
my new lover
appeared
wearing the sun
and the wind
like epaulets
on his shoulders.
With a strong open fist
he broke my loneliness.
A dove flies
to cold
lofty
Ararat.
_____
for my BFF's most entirely awesome 55 thang.
That closing is so unexpected and beautiful. Gorgeous 55.
ReplyDeleteWonderful! Especially that dove, flying to cold, lofty Ararat. Wow.
ReplyDeleteWhat is it about storms, about the dance between rain and sun and the ever-flickering cosmos that makes us personify it in our lovers? (Perhaps we've just been blessed with ones who change like the weather.) I don't know, but whatever it may be, it certainly works for you here. Every word leads seamlessly into the next, and the poem slides into the mind, glides into the heart like the dove that flies to signal the end of flood and the start of a new life. Thanks so much for playing and kicking this weekend's ass so thoroughly, Shay.
ReplyDeleteLovely and freighted with meanings - as usual!
ReplyDeleteThe first drops of rain are falling on the mountains, the air smells of moisture...loved your 55. It never goes well when a letter is left in the rain. It has been a long time since the last rain, what a welcome change, from the dry hot days, so far this spring.
ReplyDeleteAny lover who wears the sun and the wind as epaulets is worth hanging on to! I love the majestic and epic feel of this.
ReplyDeleteOkay, there must be some sort of inky storm dancing with the universal muse. It's creepy--not this poem, this poem is freaking fantastic--it's creepy that I wrote about a stormy relationship, J wrote about a stormy relationship, and well... you know. All right, end of rambling.
ReplyDeleteI always enjoy the vividness of your poetry. The way in which those first two stanzas puts me right there with the speaker, smelling the paper of that bible, feeling the folds of that letter...
And then that closing... the violence with which the subject attacks the speaker's loneliness roars out of the words... soothingly.
I admit I had to look up Ararat. The image of a dove flying...Well, it's haunting.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous and sort of unexpected!
ReplyDeleteAnother very powerful 55 Shay! And yes, excellent word play- and created imagery - and as usual, the unexpected - which really speaks as testament to choosing to create a vision and go beyond, carrying it further. All in 55 - and wow, yeah, relationships never quite carry the weight of doves - rare gift when it comes, if it ever does.
ReplyDeleteAwesome reprise of a kickass five five, Shay -- that new lover I suppose is the poem, taking bed-linens and scripture to brew up the wilder big night music. The loneliness becomes the cold companionship of empty Ararat.
ReplyDeleteA crafty bit of conjuring here Shay and a dazzling array of magical imagery. Loved it.
ReplyDeleteWhat a blast from the past. Loved it then and love it now. And you do the form just perfectly, to show how very much can be said in 55 words, or a letter folded and left in a bible, waiting for that strong open hand. I miss doing this, but like everything else in blog world it just dwindled away on us.
ReplyDelete