Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Poetry Wednesday

Two Ship

I wandered, into the killing season
                                                      and You followed

You are your tangles; your boat with sails and stripes
                                   sewn up and the greatcoat
with no pocket (You expected it to hold)

such fearsome strain
on the rigging:         it darkens on the edges
but holds, and in your coat
                           You are your own child
with a beard full of brine, and it keeps You

tempts Me to come up
I am terrible, curious,
red on the edges (Gorgeous fish)
       I have found my anchor,

here am I,
                purring with the urchins
that feel everything You send into the water,
and the leaves,
exhausted with weight and leaving,
                              are light enough.

Annnnnnnnnnnd, something not-mine that I love:

Red Cloth
by Jean Valentine

Red cloth 
I lie on the ground 
otherwise nothing could hold 

I put my hand on the ground 
the membrane is gone 
and nothing does hold 

your place in the ground 
is all of it 
and it is breathing

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