Lucy in the Sky...

By Silver Spun Sand

Wed, 25 Mar 2015

2 comments

Night-long, saw the Great Hunter stride –

shimmering, bright – liquid silver it shone,

as does the rising moon splice the ridge –

jade silk becomes her dress, as verdant

as the forest floor...fern-fronds, biding

their time until unfurling when the skin

of the morning splits, and where she sits...

a cloud of Commas, brown and orange,

rest their wings, before they’re up, up

and away, at break of dawn, curling

in the wake of ochre leaves;

her fingers feather the moss – clothe

an old tree stump, as if a message scribed

in Braille from a gnarled and ancient missive,

and her sigh like the snake’s smooth slide,

and the hint of a whisper at the heart of a blade

of grass...moonlight through trees, the night

breathing deep – stirring the pines; inhaling

Woodbine, Coco Chanel – Bells of Ireland;

the wind – blowing diamonds.

Permalink Submitted by skinner_jennifer on Thu, 2015-03-26 13:02

Hi Tina,

I agree with Annest, there are so many wonderful metaphors within this poem. It was quite magical to read.

Thank you for sharing.

Jenny.

Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on Thu, 2015-03-26 19:55

And my sincerest thanks to you, too, Jenny.

Hope you have a peaceful evening.

Tina