and the moss didn't move
just like the honeysuckle
didn't seem to care
you
beneath the earth
between azaleas and daffodils
every finger
and thumb
covered in dirt
in the blood of dirt
as if the garden had skin
and I had peeled it raw
and ragged
you and
the dust of you
one slow slim lick
of the wound
6 comments:
I like the poem, but am still reflecting on the relationship between the poem and it's title....although the longer I reflect the more romanticism comes through...(not sure though!).
Very interesting poem. It is as if she/he is happy as long as she/he stays in mourning. Great write! :)
Here's the poem I shared at dVerse Poets Pub this week.
love this
"as if the garden had skin
and I had peeled it raw
and ragged"
as we wait for the blanket of snow to release our land for planting
"the dust of you" is a very sensual; expression
Where is the Food when mother is not?
even when it's windy, the moss doesn't move.
Where is the Food when mother is not?
and ragged
you and
the dust of you
one slow slim lick
of the wound
made
me shiver
everything about this
title right thru
is super smart
and V.cool
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