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Posts
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@esmeralda wrote:
Hum.
The poppies are swaying
and whispering bees
scoop pollen, pulped pabulous on thrashing winds
bearing peregrines and rain.After the time
when I am only breeze,
stoop low by potentilla
to a recollection of kisses nearly taken,
borne on an insect paean.©
8)
.. As breathtaking as the first time I read it Esme.
SMALL KNUCKLES OF A WITCH
I glance down
at the white fists, clenched,
steadied against the keyboard,
stricken;
the familiar blue vein, tiny and faint,
forming a ‘w’ in fragile flourish
on the left..Frail, fraught, fastigiate fingers,
formed from Betty
and Fred
and dead as either of them.Tip tapping a message to the spirit world of the living,
on laptops in Venezuela
and France.©
Small knuckles of a witch: part two
They make a dismal noise
these little hands,
carelessly thrown aside,
discarded
where they fall intimately
on a breast..
a thigh..Sorry things that clutch at naught
but straws.©
Thank you Esme
xx
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