I remember
your arm’s weighty drape,
the ease of your fatal charm
the shape of each hand
birthmarks, scars.
Fleeting moments
seldom disintegrate.
Every life
breathes its own story,
victory and defeat,
even a love out-grown
inhales it own grief –
a field left unsown allows
the thunder to sweep by
without the need
to count raindrops.
A specious solitude
may descend unannounced
in a room now empty
of your fallen shadow
where a low bar of sunshine
has taken its place
and warmed the heart
with gentle grace.
Now every corner’s
swept clear of dust,
the lust’s shaken
out of the sheets,
kisses folded up
like handkerchiefs
and forgotten in a drawer.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Beautiful extended metaphor! There may be love, but it may vacate the room! The last verse is especially poignant!
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the catches of internal and assonant rhyme. "Low bar of sunshine" is fine phrasing.
ReplyDeleteAlso, nice work on the line about kisses being folded up like handkerchiefs.
"Fleeting moments seldom disintegrate." So true! I think they become deeper with time. I think this may be especially true of those lost loves where the story stopped leaving us with those fleeting glimpses when we (perhaps in poetry) unfold what we had placed out of sight for a time in one of the 'drawers' of our mind. Your poem captures feelings well, Kerry. Loved your wordings.
ReplyDeleteI quite enjoyed this and the way it extended the Gibran quote at the top of the page. Beautifully written :)
ReplyDeleteLovely words Kerry ~ What a solitude ~
ReplyDelete"Even a love outgrown inhales its own grief." Beautiful writing, Kerry, and folding up the kisses is brilliant.
ReplyDelete"A specious solitude
ReplyDeletemay descend unannounced
in a room now empty
of your fallen shadow"
It does become real, especially when the rest is folded up and put away. This is a perfect poem, Kerry, a piece of art moving across my consciousness as the sun beams move from window to window and the day draws on.
A specious solitude
ReplyDeletemay descend unannounced
in a room now empty
of your fallen shadow
...beautiful lines. Lovely melancholy woven throughout.
Very well done Kerry, loved reading this ... lovely weblog also, love the quote of Gibran.
ReplyDeleteNamaste
when you write love poetry {or "kind of like love poetry"} your words are always so evocative, calling forth such beautiful and sensual imagery. i can only sigh at the end and wish i could write even one line as stunning as yours.
ReplyDelete♥
Wow! Thank you.. that is fine praise, indeed, coming from a poet I so admire.
Delete"Even a love out-grown inhales its own grief," beautiful line. Folded up kisses, the Gibran quote. The mystical quality of love, lost or found, resonates throughout. A wonderful write, Kerry, and thanks for sharing. Peace, Amy
ReplyDeletehttp://sharplittlepencil.com/2012/08/10/hela-for-poets-united-think-tank-thursday/
A lot of the fields get tired and will not be seeded. Sometimes after laying fallow for a bit reseeding will become profitable again.
ReplyDelete..
The flow of this poem, the message, and everything about it is wonderful!
ReplyDeleteEvery life
breathes its own story,
victory and defeat,
even a love out-grown
inhales it own grief –
a field left unsown allows
the thunder to sweep by
without the need
to count raindrops.
This stanza calls to me though....such emotion!