What idle devil limned your voice
with salt of falsity
and set such poison in the heart
that was so kind to me?
The thing that curled and grew there had
its own vitality
just as the lush green climbing vine
kills the hosting tree.
_________
I wrote this for Word Garden Word List--Stephen Crane, but only used three of the words and one of them got removed during editing. As a result, I haven't linked this to the prompt, but that was its origin, nevertheless.
This is probably as perfect as a poem gets--heart-rendingly so. It's reminiscent of Crane in its brevity and single central metaphor, but it has your own depth and craft, and signature feel. "Salt of falsity.." an indelible phrase, and the last stanza penetrates like a silver needle.
ReplyDeleteDear Shay, I hear Crane's shrewd wit, Dickinson's penetrating diction, and Blake's "The Sick Rose" resonating in your lines. All the more powerful for its simple imagery and quietness of tone, you slay with this one.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant. I echo Joy's observations - such power in the brevity. I especially love the two closing lines which tie a perfect poem up in a bow.
ReplyDeleteGlad you stayed true to the poem, Shay. I don't know Stephen Crane and I also had to look up the word "limned" so I always learn something when I come here. This one's dark, and part of me would like the devil to be overcome, but it's beautifully written as ever <3
ReplyDeleteAlmost pure Crane here! Perfect last lines.
ReplyDelete