Pink with Purple Peonies

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Fri, 12 Feb 2016
  • 2157 reads
8 comments
 
They’d be at it again...soon as they switched off
East Enders; me mum and me dad....
 
chucking abuse at each other, then she’d get rough –
kick his shins, punch his chest and he’d give her
what for. Who could blame him, poor sod?
Made me want to throw-up...it always did.
 
Then he’d do what she’d suggested, ‘Get the hell lost!’
scarper out back to the wood-shed, lick his wounds, 
metaphorical or otherwise, and she’d 
get stuck in to her gin...
 
stare straight through me as if I wasn’t there...
to hell and back, probably – where I’d already been. 
Her mouth would twist and contort, do
a kind of a dance, almost.
 
She’d light a fag, a signal for me to be gone,
and so I’d do a runner, too.  The hill on the heath...
where I headed; the wind in my face
 
and when I reached the top...the sting
of wet grass on my legs – him lifting 
my skirt...pink it was, with purple peonies
 
and him, asking me how old I was, and what 
did they call me, and as he spoke I saw
the wet tremble of his lips – 
 
and clouds, like dragons, devoured
the hill-top, swallowed the sun - spat
them out again, in a way, no weather-man
could predict.
 
That was when I saw it...one of those
big eagles, and although light-years above me
just sensed it was golden – green eyed; green, 
like mine...green, the colour of envy
 
and pretty soon I’d be up there, too – that creature
and me, circling, soaring...sailing – flying, free, 
over the heath...until
 
it dropped, like a stone, having bagged its quarry
captive of callous, clutched claws...one final,
fleeting memory of what liberty was
 
slow, soft air beneath its wings, succouring 
such small longings...
 
it’s the sky, though, I shall remember the most...
pink it was, pink with purple peonies.
Certificate 15
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Unclassified
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by Bee on

The unsaid speaks the loudest in this piece. Louder than the verbal abuse. 

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

You are more than right there, Bee...unfortunately.

Tina

 

Submitted by loquaciousicity on

A very unsettling read... and very well done!!

Terry

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

My thanks to you, Terry, on this drab and dreary Saturday. At least it is here, unfortunately.

Tina

 

Submitted by jeand on

Hi Tina

This is such a powerful story - and fits the poetry label without losing the pace of a story. Well done.

Jean

Jean Day

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Pleased you thought so, Jean.  Thank you for taking the trouble to let me know.

Tina

 

Submitted by EB on

I agree with Jean. Powerfully written and disturbing - left an impression in my brain. 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Appreciated, EB.  

Tina