a keg and a keel
by Jo Halliday
The rains that wash upon your face,
so heavy you gasp for breath, but you are excited
and all round a stillness of life, of something being born.
The rain is grey, and it makes the colour of your eyes bright
and it makes the dark skies full of love; as if
the flame is delicate and you shade it with your hand, because
you love the fire, the burning beauty. The rustle of intangible
just the same as the skirt you wear today, the long skirt
with a knowledge of you, more than I could have, for it wears you
it smells you all day. But soon,
you will be nude and alone with you, and all the world's strings you will gather.
The lights come and go out, and in the moonshine you weave baskets
of wicker and jute, of unspent anger and thrill of deeper thought;
and around the torrent lasts, the frogs dance and make merry.
The deafening world crashes and lasts, while you birth new songs.
Posted on 08/15/2010
Copyright © 2021 Jo Halliday
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by George Hoerner on 08/15/10 at 06:29 PM|
A lovely piece Jo. And we also have our basket weavers with history on the tips of their fingers. Roadside sellers to all who stop as they pass.
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/11/10 at 01:25 AM|
I always thought functioning during monsoon would be a challenge, but an invigorating presence indeed. You make me think of that here. I enjoy especially the skirt images, the life that goes on, the merry frogs. This takes me back. Thank you.