Thursday, March 29, 2007

Grief and love

I too know power deep in the limbo of dreams.
I too watch a ship and want, an eagle and want.
I'll never be a princess feeding swans.
No golden bird is singing in my fingers.

My joy, like yours, is snatched from tenement mornings
and wrung till it cracks in my hands,
a pitiful rejoicing in a sand box, a sun-patch more.
Yes, I stand in hallways gathering valleys in my apron,
yet, scarcely daring another spring.

O honey, I hoped to be a butterfly fluttering in your pocket,
but now you flood just one cell of my mind,
still hating your walls, still half-dreaming
of my bringing you a brother, a young son.

Yesterday I passed your stoop.
I saw an old woman tousling children's hair
with a drifting, mechanical hand.
An old woman already dreading the final apples,
the last rain.


EternallyeExceptional said...

veryyyyy beautifulllll

Nothingman said...

Last two lines took my breath away, this reminds me of the song, 'old woman behind the counter in a small town'
yes there is a song title this long.

Beautiful as ever :)