In Late Afternoon

In late afternoon,
daisies bloom from the tea kettle.
They lure a light rain 
causing the ends of my hair to curl like child ballerinas.

In late afternoon,
I open your letter which arrived by bicycle.
A boy from the town 
who stared at my breasts as if they were loaves, cooling.

In late afternoon,
a mourning dove perches on the stone wall outside.
I remember a song,
our bed, and November snow we watched like lazy tabbies.
______

Comments

hedgewitch said…
This is so mellow, reflective and immediate in mood. It puts the reader in the middle of the experience as if it is their own. Then it smacks them with images like flowers blooming from a kettle and breasts like loaves. Very redolent of the Spanish language poetry of Neruda or Lorca, but with a magic that is pure Fireblossom. I especially like the way you have ended each stanza with a killer line. Just gorgeous,Shay.
Carrie Van Horn said…
To describe and place another there in the moment the way you do is an ability that most do not have, and as Hedgewitch said, you end every stanza with lines that knock your socks off. I always think that I could not love another poem you write any more than the one before, but each new poem is another to cherish more than the one before. Sigh.....I love this Shay!!
. said…
I love this image:
“They lure a light rain
causing the ends of my hair to curl like child ballerinas.”

The last sentence is so soft and soothing, like chamomile.
Helen said…
I cannot verbalize why .... your poem made me cry. The spirits have no answer for me.
Brendan said…
I agree with Hedge, this so much has the frame and sound of a Spanish poet. The repetition, the wash of light on adobe, the aching vista which is the most bittersweet memory of love. A real gift and thanks for sharing it at earthweal.
Sherry Blue Sky said…
This is so lovely , late afternoon, the indolent hour, the imagery and, especially the memories of those other late afternoons, watching from bed like lazy tabbies. Sigh.
tonispencer said…
Wonderful. Like lazy tabbies...
Sumana Roy said…
The carefree, devouring and contemplative moods in such rich imagery well express our three stages of life. Beautiful.
sarah said…
I love the tone of this poem - nothing happens, everything happens. That middle stanza is so good - I wish I'd written it.
Sioux Roslawski said…
Shay--I got to the last 2 lines of the second stanza, and my mouth dropped open. Then, I got to the last lines of the last stanza.

Double awww. As always, I bow down to you.
Sioux Roslawski said…
Double awww and double awe.
Kerry O'Connor said…
The curly hair, the bicycle, the dove.. these everyday articles stand out for me in a way that reminds me how the best poetry transcends the mundane and transports the reader for a brief spell.
Mary said…
Oh, I love the imagery and the way this poem makes me feel nostalgic and warm!

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