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a particle dance
by Shirin Swiftthe clouds carry a woman's corpse
across the sky
the back of her cranium
rests brightly on the hard blue sky
i see a girl on the rocks
her yellow skirt does not lie quietly,
her clothes rail against her form
she rests her head, against the rock
do the rocks carry her across the sea?
"maybe," she replies, mockingly
i see myself on the balcony
between these women
my clothes rise
my cranium rests against the cold cold glass
her friends come to collect her
they sound a little loud, a little young, a little drunk
by the drowsy, warm-talking ocean -
a little louder than the teenagers,
a little louder than hops fermenting
my heart thrums, as it's never been felt
a particle dances
in a skull-bright heap
a book closes on a shadow,
years pass in a mote 12/06/2006 Author's Note: (The moon was almost full and dappled reminding me of the back of a skull. The clouds were gaunt, disfiguring, grotesque, glorious. Life. Is it going to open? Why is it so slow?)
Posted on 12/07/2006
Copyright © 2024 Shirin Swift
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 12/07/06 at 07:27 AM A very poised poem, much silence amidst the sounds, that is what I hear. i love the "warm-talking ocean", I love the image in the clouds.
All of the contrasts and the "maybe" --this is a delicate moment, and the ending shows the import of years and the inner "particle" dance that is happening on the edge. The book closing "on a shadow" is a very clear and potent image. |
| Posted by Anya Kaats on 12/14/06 at 06:04 AM this is amazing. even the title is brilliant. |
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