do you see the grey clouds
then you see me:
they aren't as greyblack as you think
their heavy duty thunder clapped insides
are just loud & brashly wrapped
do you hear the chinese whispers too
i do
i hear things about this
& that of what you want
and what you think
if you find yourself here -
amongst the odd socks,
holey knickers and holy candles
alit with famous flames
where there is faith in womanhood
in elastic dreams that pull me
and her together
see her, the familiar
her the friend
her, the inevitiable action
she has hair the colours of magpies
& swallows diving
eyes dart around leaving constellations
aghast at what night brings
do you ever wonder about clouds
and think that if you were a poet
you could write about their insides
the guts of them
how they must rumble with words
fighting to form moisture
a rush of rain
snap of lightning
the cummulus showering stanzas left to dance
alone
with the grey clouds
always over our heads
we women
must pick up a pen
& write every last drop of rain
Bronze trophy winner
Adding your comment:
this!
