Old Taiwan Homestead

Cherry

By socialeaf

Tue, 07 Jul 2015
  • 1717 reads
7 comments
 

The thick smell of wet feathers

hangs heavy as if from hooks

 

In the courtyard

cupped in a horseshoe of red-brick buildings

in front of a blue-plastic stool

a bucket a single glove and knife

Its blade sharpened to a coy thin smile

over many years

 

There are voices on the breeze

and from a line from gutter to red-tiled roof 

a child's clothes flap mischievously

among slower drying adult garments

that somberly swing and drip

onto sun-cracked concrete

 

There's no one to be seen  

Certificate U
Poem
Leafnotes
Travel

Comments

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Interesting scene, begging the recent history? Would it be a falconry glove? Rhiannon

 

Submitted by socialeaf on

The glove! It's a wonderfully pertinent question to the coming together of this poem. It's a sort of disposable fabric utility glove that people here wear for all sorts of reasons. I couldn't think of how to fit a description of it into the poem, but didn't think anyone would ask. The scene described is after the slaughter of a chicken. Falconry isn't big here, but a lot of people keep pigeons. Pigeon racing in Taiwan is big business. Thank you for reading it Rhiannon:) 

 

Submitted by love_writing on

A delight to read. Loved the knife 'sharpened to a thin coy smile' and the contrasts between the adults and child's clothes flapping mischieviously- creates a great visual.

love_writing

Submitted by socialeaf on

Thank you for reading it lw:) 

 

 

Submitted by socialeaf on

 

 

 

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

Such a ghostly atmosphere and vivid description, almost felt I was there.

Submitted by socialeaf on

Thank you Philip! 

Roy