The mountains have heavy hearts.
The earth, like a fussing grandmother,
feeds them altitude
and early light.
Inside each house
is a beautiful girl, waiting.
Beneath each house
the earth understands what waiting really means.
My hands are like broken hinges
on a door warped from rain.
In my mind, grandmothers and mountains.
In my heart, my love, rushing.
I have cared for a woman, perhaps.
I have cherished a dog for years.
He drowses to the touch of my big useless hand
on his back like a happy burden.
________
for The Sunday Muse #173, where I am hosting.
the art is "Self Portrait With Accordion" by Guido Vedovato
Sigh. Each word seeped into my heart like balm. Mountains, grandmothers, dogs......all speak such deep love and comfort.
ReplyDeleteI believe this is what is referred to as 'slow burn," with a gentle opening and a building crescendo that leads to a calm but perfect finish. Those last two stanzas teared me up, as only real poetry can do. May we all end up sitting like that, as the last storms rage and our hearts become our only shelter.
ReplyDelete"my hands are like broken hinges on a door warped with rain" .. what delicious descriptive prose! Beautiful write!
ReplyDeleteLovely from the word go. You are a magical wordsmith, Shay :)
ReplyDeleteOf all the words in this amazing poem .... 'happy burden' are my favorites. As Joy said there were lines, that if I had allowed myself ... I might have sobbed. Oh Shay, wherever does that brain of yours journey?
ReplyDeleteI could quote every line in this gorgeous poem my friend! You had me at the mountains have heavy hearts. I adore my hands are like broken hinges on a door warped from rain. This whole poem is just amazing. You say what no one can say in ways no one could have thought up. That is what makes your poetry so utterly special. I love love love this Shay!!
ReplyDeleteSuch s wonderful piece you’ve written here Shay — and spectacular song choice! 🙂✌🏼
ReplyDeleteHow gorgeous:
ReplyDelete“feeds them altitude
and early light.”
My goodness, this is clever:
“Beneath each house
the earth understands what waiting really means.”
And this is where you make me shake my head and swallow:
“My hands are like broken hinges
on a door warped from rain.”
And when we take account it's the dogs steady love that comes out still, like the tortoise in our fable.
ReplyDeleteThanks for hosting.
..
..
That opening stanza is genius.
ReplyDeleteI'll be looking at mountains and grandmothers in a very new light after reading your poem.
ReplyDeleteGood Sunday
Much❤love
Sounds like a melancholy place to be and describes the image very well. Thank goodness for furry 4-leggeds <3
ReplyDeleteAnother devastatingly amazing poem. Every stanza is almost unbearably good.
ReplyDelete"The earth, like a fussing grandmother, / feeds them altitude / and early light." -- good god.
"Beneath each house / the earth understands what waiting really means." -- lord!
"My hands are like broken hinges / on a door warped from rain." -- holy god.
And then you land it so beautifully with "my big useless hand / on his back like a happy burden"
Reminded me about my Nan... The line about a fussing Grandmother rang too true for me.. Thanks for sharing and the reminder to be thankful for the time I had with her..
ReplyDelete