Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Fever

In the day of the fever,
at the end of the war,
you'll take up my hand and I'll give up my place--
my customary place--
in the hall, on the floor,

to go riding with you.
Remember the days when willows leaned low
over the canal, where we girls used to go?
And oh, the things we liked to do.
But you, dear, my Only One, you already know.

In those days when the voices were sweet in my head,
the willows leaned low, as if putting babies to bed;
there were no air raids,
no rubble, cracked and sharp-edged--
just mama's little angels passed out in the hedge.

So now...what, My Pet?
Kisses to catch up on?
Rooms to let?
Do you want to fuck me slow and easy?
I'll take all I can get, I'm not so far gone
that I would say no to that.

In the fields at the far end
of the old road to town,
you can see the hulk of the Junker
that the home guard shot down.
I just like to think that it fell 
from its bedding of clouds
like a baby...My Baby...
where the willows lean down.
______

 

10 comments:

  1. Fever isn't such a new thing.
    Fever started long time ago!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well, once roused from my bliss at the gorgeous, perfect rhyme, I attempted to summon my critical faculties, but all I seem to be able to dribble out is Oh Gosh. I absolutely love the first stanza--the 'customary place,' all of the middle, the bending low to soothe the babies, which are always restive at bedtime, especially in the hedges...and the end, full of both assertion and surrender. Lovely, musical, excellent writing, Shay.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Your work is always rewarding throughout - often kicking off with amazing opening gambits. But this time features a fabulous punch at the end!




    ALOHA from Honolulu
    Comfort Spiral
    }
    /V
    [[

    =^..^=

    ReplyDelete
  4. Is there such a thing as a poet groupie?

    Well yeah, because I'm one of yours.

    What a beautiful calming song this poem. <3

    Kiss.

    ReplyDelete
  5. So lovely, the rhyming, the meter, and oh, that last line....."where the willows lean down." Sigh. Beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Sweet memories of love during wartime? Very nicely done!

    ReplyDelete

Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?