[poem] And so the seasons
Sep. 23rd, 2014 10:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
How is it that so very great a gift
can be as fragile, tiny, tenuous as this:
this sun-bleached bird skull, feather-light,
caught in protecting nets emplaced
from June til autumn (dawn til dusk).
Nearby: a poised and outspread wing,
tenacity of tenderness made flesh.
Unwieldy metaphor, perhaps, and yet--
and yet. O best belov'd: take flight.
(It is the lightness of your embrace
that will let me go adrift. -- Meg Bateman)
can be as fragile, tiny, tenuous as this:
this sun-bleached bird skull, feather-light,
caught in protecting nets emplaced
from June til autumn (dawn til dusk).
Nearby: a poised and outspread wing,
tenacity of tenderness made flesh.
Unwieldy metaphor, perhaps, and yet--
and yet. O best belov'd: take flight.
(It is the lightness of your embrace
that will let me go adrift. -- Meg Bateman)
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-23 10:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-23 10:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-23 09:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-23 10:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-23 10:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-23 10:46 am (UTC)A.D. Hope's 'Death of the Bird'.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-23 10:53 am (UTC)Fleur Adcock -- Advice to a Discarded Lover.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-25 04:13 pm (UTC)The dog tugged me by the lead
To where you a bird
Were left for the birds
I held her back
But was drawn like her
To your sky burial
Compelled by the writhing life
Bringing you down to earth
Arranging, rearranging
Composing, decomposing
I wrenched myself away
By tugging on the lead.
Here is no place to stop,
Nothing but ill humours.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-25 04:15 pm (UTC)Thank you.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-23 11:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-23 11:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-23 11:46 pm (UTC)