I dreamed of the swan who made the night long
by dying on the shore of the hours
where you and I walked on storm-bent stalks
who mistook the gale for a shower
of sweet memories
that turned into these
orphans who talk and talk
about some lost song they learned from the dawn
that was filled with falling flocks.
I dreamed of the swan who kept your heart
beneath its wing for a year
until it left on the golden breath
of your conscripted volunteer
who saved you from
the things you'd done
that turned your fingers sharp
on the mandolin you used to win
those you simply loved to death.
________
for The Sunday Muse #249.
You are back, indeed, and so worth the wait! I especially love the heart under the swan's wing for a year. Only you can write like this.
ReplyDeletethe swan who made the night long
ReplyDeleteby dying on the shore of the hours' I can't stand it that's so good.
Your imagery is always like peering into the most lovely deep abyss that no one else could have imagined! That first set of lines are beyond amazing Shay! I love this so!!! So glad you are back!
ReplyDeleteI just like to read and re-read - and savour - drop into the words and images and let them take flight .... and then read again, and again. This is what excellent poetics is. Words that burn and sizzle or softly linger in the mind, touch the spirit, heart and soul. Brava!
ReplyDeleteYes. Love the heart under the wing. So lyrical. I can imagine Nick Cave writing music for this..
ReplyDelete"I dreamed of the swan who made the night long
ReplyDeleteby dying on the shore of the hours"
Stunning writing, Shay!