by Ariane Scott
Behind my house is a row of trees
Through a break in the lush I watch a small girl
in a pink patterened shirt
down a wooden deck.
Through the grape vines to my left
a woman walks in a loose blue dress,
she is dragging things, buckets, mulch, a wagon.
I call to her, I say, I see the breeze
blow the trees inside your dress.
I know what you mean, she says,
there are hours before night but the moon
already seems to light your eyes.
I stare at her for days.
My husband comes from the side door,
catches me flicking ashes on my thighs.
This one is dangerous, he says of a spider
running up my chair.
He battles it.
Beyond the trees the little girl falls.
Her cries fill my breasts.
Through the vines the woman
wipes a dirty arm
across her brow.
Author's Note: 2005.
Posted on 08/10/2011
Copyright © 2021 Ariane Scott
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Richard Vince on 08/11/11 at 07:08 PM|
such a beautiful, atmospheric poem. i love poetry that transports me; this poem certainly does that. marvellous stuff.
|Posted by Ken Harnisch on 08/11/11 at 08:58 PM|
There are elements of visualization here I find tantalizing and thought-evoking..and ain't that the purpose of the best poems?
|Posted by Angela Stevens on 08/15/11 at 07:08 PM|
This is really lovely. Thank you. 'dependably green' - I love that.