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Pleiades
by Shirin SwiftDusk wriggles out of the hands of night
smelling of mischief and dug-up chrysanthemums.
I wait for them to descend from creaking octaves twig minuets,
the glossy starlings have come, battering the stone birdbath.
I take to the easy scatterings of their screeches and seeds,
with my salt, lusting to hold just one of those splayed tail feathers;
Under the spell, radiant blueberry sloshes inside the observant mouth
cerulean mounting epitomes in designer torn wings.
With all the desire of Orion I finger test the blue beads about my neck,
exalting my clavicles, envision my florid blouse dismounting
from a sentient torso, now tossing on the floor, to let my heart
thrash nakedly amidst the bird storm, let Orion's touch be beached.
A spoonful of blood doves up to that mosque of stolen interiors
is seen to disappear to the Pleiades. 11/09/2006 Posted on 11/09/2006
Copyright © 2024 Shirin Swift
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 11/11/06 at 04:36 PM Fantastic, from beginning to end. The stream of consciousness sweep from the minute observation of the "glossy starlings" through intimate detail (in the midst of a briliantly described sunset glow, a dusk that "wriggles out of the hands of night smelling of mischief and dug-up crysanthemums")to the larger scope (lightly scattering personal details like a Diana undressing) of mythological reference-- and the final irresistably correct and satisfying result--the Plaiedes sparkling, wonderful. |
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