Her pink fingertips
Touch the frayed edges
Of her dress
We would look pretty
In a silver urn
She sings
The branches of the trees
Sway
Happy like an afterglow
It is too early to be gone
I whisper
We must trust the earth
Keep our feet firmly
On the ground
Our skin is doused in sunshine
Better than acid
She seethes
That makes me feel sad
There is no going back
From the damage
I wonder when we will rest
If our final place
Will shine and glow
Like her shoes
Perhaps it is best not to think
She says
Reaching for my hand
Tomorrow we will stitch the edges
Start again
Not end.
Yes, too soon to be gone. I love "Our skin is doused in sunshine." I can almost feel the warmth. Stitching the edges sounds good. It is always good to read you, Jae.
ReplyDelete"Perhaps it is best not to think
ReplyDeleteShe says
Reaching for my hand
Tomorrow we will stitch the edges
Start again
Not end."
wow, loved that ending. you are a remarkable poet, everytime i read something from i just start gushing. i need to add you to my blogroll
I like the way that death is treated so matter-of-factly in this poem. It is inevitable, after all.
ReplyDeleteEarth and sunshine are indeed good for the soul. I wonder if there is a way to go forward rather than back (but not into ending)? Perhaps that is implied in the starting again.
ReplyDeleteYou allow a reader to search for the meaning and I like that.
ReplyDeleteStitching the edges .... so many ways to interpret three tiny words. Love the depth and breadth of this poem.
ReplyDelete"Reaching for my hand
ReplyDeleteTomorrow we will stitch the edges
Start again
Not end." ......... beautiful
"There is no going back
ReplyDeleteFrom the damage"
Seed of truth which brings forward too much
I like the imagery in the first few lines.
ReplyDelete