The bathroom sighs
as you open the door,
an old man exhaling
in the booth.
Outside the machine pounds
against the weary anvil,
great teeth crash together
in a satisfied smile.
Fortunate Son,
you must breathe correctly
each breath measured
to avoid the disapproving stare.
From your high walls
you command the servants
to turn me away
even though
I am your Fathers' Lovers' Son.
Remember the cattle raid?
and how I was left behind
to string wooden beads
that counted the days you were gone.
This was the way of it:
"Awake Princess!
The darkness approaches,
and we must away before it overtakes us",
and you laughed at the fear
in my cracking voice.
Line 13
produces dressings
that must be refrigerated
immediately--
the ladies chatter
of timeless themes.
Author notes
Written August 1st, 2003
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Comments
-
Wow, more sadness and lonely-ness...but your writing conjurs up some wonderful images...You are good at discriptive lines. J'aime Coudre
-
As poets, we are aware of everything within us and around us, and sometimes it makes me dizzy in my head... :-)
I love the imagery in this,
~ Wendy
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