Hi Christina,
If this is a first draft I think I'll pack up and go home now. It's a
cracker, bitter sweet, only the memories left and still able to see
the person and not the image the mind can sometimes create.
Lovely work - can't see any real way of improving it other than maybe
to give a clue as to who Roely is or what the relationship was (felt
like a lover who'd left/passed on). Although maybe that's the charm
of the poem, second thoughts don't change.
Cheers
Ian
--- Christina Fletcher <[log in to unmask]> wrote: >
Roely
>
>
> She said, 'My chairs will see me out.'
> and so they did. And yet she sits here still
> in quiet corners.
>
> A wash of winter light
> turns Delft blue design to darkness -
> snow scumbled in sky
>
> across a flat and furrowed land
> where windmills reach
> beyond the point a human eye can find
>
> where once we walked
> when this empty vase
> held tulips.
>
> Stamen and stem to mulch.
> Only a clock breaks silence
> to meter minutes as years pass.
>
> Wind and rewind until
> the movement stops and springs uncoil
> to find, or not find grace.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> christina fletcher
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