—when skies are hanged and oceans drowned,
the single secret will still be man --e.e. cummings
I spoke to my despair
in a voice that October
wears around its injured throat
on a chain of dripping water.
Because the nights are too long,
I sew their darkness into a jacket
and on the sleeves are
embroidered golden snakes.
I sit at a table made of the world
with legs of heirloom iron and wind.
Young men run past, shouting
and dragging morning to her grave.
In evening, I speak to the cardinal
who comes to my window like a Gypsy.
I say, the dawn is still in love with you
but a snake strikes the cardinal
from my sleeves
and my despair.
______________
for Dverse Poetics "Reflections" The image by Andrew Ridley and the quote by e.e. cummings are required.
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Wow. I was adoring that the morning still loved the cardinal, until the snake. Which is how so many of us are feeling right now.
ReplyDeleteVivid imagery and metaphorical language evoke a poignant struggle with despair, as darkness and hope entwine. Stunning piece!
ReplyDeleteDespair drips through the lines of your poem, Shay, and I love the opening line with its echoes of Blake’s ‘A Poison Tree’. I especially love the idea of sewing nights’ darkness into a jacket.
ReplyDeleteThe impossible weave of beauty and despair here makes the secret both medicine and fate. Like Tony Soprano would say, whaddayagonnado. Write it.
ReplyDeleteStunning imagery and metaphor, all.
ReplyDeleteThis flows so beautifully, mystically ~~~
ReplyDeleteHelen
Wow this poem holds the reader. I love young man run past shouting and dragging morning to her grave. Despair beautifully written.
ReplyDelete