Dull certainty

Cherry

By Pat G

Tue, 02 Jun 2015
  • 1512 reads
6 comments
 

Easy. A simple touch. At the point where anything 

could be agreed, surrendered, even old certainty.

 

If it happened - surprisingly, now the sea

has flattened - the warmth would quickly go.

 

The cold of the salt, the tiniest of slaps

at the water's edge, the spring plumage 

 

lost in summer's moult, a ripped prospectus

floating down, curled and blown

 

by the cruellest words. And the remains of that season 

will drift into the hopes for the next. Ask:

    

                            ******

 

"When did that warm hand preen fine filaments,

unhook and re-hook barbules,

 

confirm again the structures of flight, caress

the hard, stainless instruments?"

 

So easy. Now arms are on tables, chairs 

drawn in, shoes kicked, casually,

 

into corners.  And the remains are scraped

to the peripheries of plates:

 

Intricate ingredients, that were compounded.

So easy to capitulate now.

Certificate U
Poem

Comments

Submitted by VeraClark on

Adored this. Beautifully done. Can picture the process of how he/she got bones to plate artfully, the deft knife along lines of flight. I saw euthanasia in it. You've restrained emotion, made it procedural, which gives it so much more than you could ever expect.

 

Submitted by Pat G on

Thank you for such thoughtful feedback Vera.

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Masterful writing, Pat. 

Tina

 

Submitted by Pat G on

Thank you Tina. Just been enoying your masterful writing.

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

Death the only certainty. Such striking images, I particularly like the way spring, summer and autumn slip into each other, the speedy passing of time, and then what follows.  Lots to think about here.

Submitted by Deliberately Ev... on

So beautiful - so sad.

The beat of your heart is the mellifluent rhythm to my soul.