upon the death of my grandmother
flower
buckles
white
satin
straight
her jacket
straight
her back
narrow
and not
unnoticed
her gaze
now below my own
brow
I did not know
her
to speak
of though I have
her
fortress eyes
thick
like walls
and casting their own
shadow
and as they
close
I see
on my own
hands
the skin
grown
thin
and know
and know her
straight
and narrow
jacket
fits
us
all
this poem humbly offered up for OpenLinkNight at dVerse poets.
Love the poem
ReplyDeleteStunning.
ReplyDeleteLovely, evocative poem.
ReplyDeleteI can never find the right words to tell you how much I love your writing, especially this one. All I can say is, just once I'd like to write like you xx
ReplyDeleteSo neat ... and I can relate ... somewhat ... wrote about my own grandmother a while ago "Maria" (http://catsruledogsdroole.blogspot.com/) ... Love, cat.
ReplyDeleteAgain, I'm inspired by your words Angie.
ReplyDeletethe play around a straight jacket is nice...and seeing them in yourself as well...i like...
ReplyDeleteAh, I saw this before and RTed it on Twitter. Wonderfully crafted and conceived work.
ReplyDeletebreathtaking! I love how subtly yet directly you draw the reader in.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poetry...
ReplyDeleteLove this Angie...never met a poem of yours, I didn't like!
ReplyDeletereally like this style - cool piece
ReplyDeleteGlorious!
ReplyDeleteJust marvellous, I'm chuckling, squeezed into the straight jacket of time!
Yet...how deep it reads, in the back of my throat!
lovely poets all...thank you for taking the time to read my words
ReplyDeleteA very personal and moving poem. A worthy way to remember her.
ReplyDelete