Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Offering



She walks down the track

in a black dress

early on a Sunday afternoon,

with an ice cream bar in one hand

and her shoes in the other;

the dogs don't bark.

no dogs will bark.

they are silent.


She walks down the track

in a black dress

with her smoky hair

where the locomotives used to split the hills,

and the coal underground still burns.

it only takes a spark.

a tiny little spark

starts the smoldering.


She walks down the track

in a black dress

with a dusky dog

close and silent at her side;

there are mounds here that hold

her mother and her mother going back.

let her walk by.

just let her pass by.

to live, lay your heart

at her feet, like silver track.

_________
to get to Moundsville, just follow the old Baltimore & Ohio tracks.

12 comments:

  1. We are all walking down the tracks to somewhere I think.

    Secretia

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  2. "...like a silver track" - beautiful.

    In the end, we all have to walk alone (though the company of a good dog should never be dismissed)

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  3. The ethereal quality of the word placement, the certain repetition, took me within the walkers being and let me see her thoughts of her ancestors as she walked upon the warming ground on an endless passage.

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  4. I love the line about the locomotives splitting the hills.

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  5. My hearts at your feet 'Cookie'...

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  6. This is a bittersweet offering, Shay.

    A beautiful shade of melancholy.

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  7. This is spectacular. You read that story of the Pennsylvania town too?

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  8. Way in the distance I saw those tracks come so close with one another, it looked like a tight squeeze for me...so I turned back the other way--to face the same tight squeeze.

    Hey FireBlossom, I absolutely LOVE this pgrase, so "cute!":

    "slightly used, vintage poetess, some behavior issues"

    Peace and Love

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  9. Whoa....boy do I feel those souls in the mounds of WV. There is a mound in the city where I work and those souls walk with me...I've been to this site and a few others in the state, but you have a way of elevating it to an amazing manner, as always...I will now look at them through the lens of Shay...poetess and goddess.

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  10. This is absolutely gorgeous. The repetition provides the beat, and the whole thing feels like music. The second stanza is my favourite. I want to listen to it again and again, like a favourite track on a record.

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Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?