Shadow of a woman outlined
in a time not your own,
a halo of joy traces you
in men’s yesterdays.
Crystal skeleton,
transparency of bones gnawed by years.
Musings in other’s memories,
requiem of resonant tone
borrowed by spirits flown to oblivion.
Debris hurtling down a shuttle.
Weary of your body’s barren husk,
you wander bleak pathways, seeker of solace.
Shadowy spheres unfurl into rainbows,
cascades of colored raindrops
intone a dirge over your corpse.
I pick up bones from eerie earth,
rebuild you, hold you to my heart
in a mantle of myrrh.
Kneeling by secluded seas,
I pledge you to wind and salt,
where wraiths transmute
into pearls of infinite worth.
Comments
Dear Jerry, it's not abstract
Dear Jerry, it's not abstract poetry, but I understand your confusion. Sorry about that. I'm not sure I can explain it, but it's probably easier for women to "get"...hope so!
There's lots in the poem, like memories, aging, discrimination, etc., but with a happier finale, although the woman is already dead. Sound weird? You're right. Thanks for visiting and for being honest.
I'm partly inspired by Jorge Luis Borges.
All the best with the rainfall, you must need it where you live. Gracy
Gracy
Braava there is not one error in this poem and I would not think of changing any words
this touched something deep within me
It is just pure beauty
Thank you so much, lynn. I
Thank you so much, lynn. I thought women would understand it better than men, but not strictly speaking. I'm glad it touched you, poetry should do that, IMHO. You're most kind with your comments.
All the best, Gracy
Dear Teddy, interesting about
Dear Teddy, interesting about the Truscan burial sites. Yes, it's theatre, most haunting, in a way.
I see that women emphasize with what I've written. I'm glad about that and expected it. You and lynn have gladenned me, if that's correct. Nowadays, I don't write or speak English as much as before, keep making mistakes.
All the best, I hope Italy is getting over the covid spell. Gracy