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Mahogany
by Karen MichelleShe takes these minutes,
black as they are,
and gives me purpose -
so here I sit
constructing meaning
from desolation
and emptiness.
On the other side
of the world, she rinses
yesterday from her hair,
watching it flow over
the palms of her hands,
through her fingers
and down the drainpipe
of rebirth and new beginnings.
I live her tomorrow
as though it were
a repeat of my yesterday
and though we are split
by time and space,
these digital impulses
remind me that
she is not alone
and neither am I.
And in the countdown
to salvation, my eyes
trail off, out the window
of the waning afternoon
as I watch for a glimpse,
awaiting her return. 07/13/2004 Author's Note: This was written in the space of about 15 minutes - Philippa Jane (check out her work here) left me alone online while she went to wash colour out of her hair, giving me the task of writing a poem for her. This is the rushed, unedited result...
Posted on 07/13/2004
Copyright © 2024 Karen Michelle
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 08/08/04 at 07:40 PM some times that sort of inspiration spawns some of our best work. hence why i love topic poetry so much. this has a weight to it that i can't describe, though i didn't know if the carrying over of "yesterday" was deliberate. i often repeat myself to continue a train of thought, but just wondered. otherwise, hm. more deliberation. yes. more. |
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