Stitches Sewn by
Hand
give the girl a
whirl crow and spider get in step
the night begs for a
dance the sky full of sparkling stars no warning
no alarm that day
sunny like most other days
soon enough snow
will fall the day will be gloomy the mountains disappear
all will be
grey shouts in the distance the words clumsy
we only speak in
whispers walking single file red poppy in the button hole
time enough to
remember a single day
not so long ago far
away memories unravel
stitches sewn by
hand the flight delayed the storm ahead visible
from the dark
clouds lightning flashes touches the earth
connection
missed when i got there you had already left the room
where i saw you
last no blanket to keep me warm to pull over my head
the cold creeps
in molecules freeze socks to mend
December 6, 2015
16 comments:
I hope the stitches can mend what's broken,
No blanket warm enough to comfort all that was lost.....a beautiful poem, my friend.
Ah, the socks. It's the mundane that can ground us. I loved the feel of this piece, Annell. Your phrasing is fantastic, and the form on the page keeps it moving along.
A beautiful poem amidst the sorrow and loss...
Althought there was the anticipation of meeting someone there and arriving too late, still desertion resonates in this piece. Its a dubious situation to phatom noth for the persona, i think, as well as the reader
have a nice Sunday
much love...
I feel the sadness in this poem, Annell. Sometimes there is no way to keep oneself warm...and the cold just chills a person to the core.
sorry mary for piggy backing here. annell, i hope this to be soothing and purging for you.
So beautiful... I can feel the gentle wistfulness in this poem.
'cold creeps in' this part gave me goosebumps...
When you lose someone you love you live in a half world where nothing seems right anymore and your future direction is uncertain. That realization that "you had already left the room" is one that lives with you always. Yet you try to live a normal life for show.
This poem is wonderfully woven..like even your stream of conscious is purposeful and beautiful...also made me think how keeping our hands busy is one way of keeping going...moving forward - having purpose xo
We stitch our moments together and call it a life, even though some of those moments are mountains and deep deep seas. And we are never ready, always surprised...
Elizabeth
And what of the dance the night begged for? must she beg again and again? and will people still leave us cold and stormy when the day itself turns dark with storm? Moving. Very personally moving to me.
When night begs for a dance, what can we do but accept the invitation?
Three nice ones. I like the middle one best. Especially the flight delay because of winter weather. Do molecules really freeze?
..
I still find this way of writing poetry intriguing and deep. So many ways to read it ... an interesting weave this time ... a melancholic winter memory ... moving. Bastet
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