Lovely, Christina.  This is like a fruit picked from a
tree as one passes almost casually by.  I am not
utterly convinced by the last line.  I wonder if
'Dance, Dolly...' would fit in better with the rest of
the poem but maybe you need the contrast.  A few
suggestions below. cheers, cara

--- Christina Fletcher <[log in to unmask]> wrote: >

>      Dolly
>
>
>      On a train to Weybridge
>      I pass my grandmother's grave.
>      She's bones now - bones and compost
>      (Perhaps you could omit 'She's bones now')
>      in a naked plot and I wonder
>      (Omit 'and'? Full-stop after 'plot')
       if music might be held
>      in a mulch of lips and larynx
>
>      and whether bones have sex?
       (omit 'and')
>      I imagine her pelvic girdle
>      gyrating - gently, like the loose rhythm
>      (The 'g's are lovely especially as they
        become gentle)
>      of this train, rising to crescendo
>      where there are no bars of Sunlight,
>      scrubbing boards, scullery mangles
>
>      or a yard where the slimey trail of snails
       (I know you don't like 'nor' but I think the

       negative  does not carry over well to this
       stanza)
>      stretches to a ditch and patch of rhubarb.
       (I think the verb could be more powerful than
        'stretches'. Maybe 'gleams towards' or
similar)
>      Sing, Dolly.  Make the earth move.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> christina fletcher
>

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Everything you'll ever need on one web page
from News and Sport to Email and Music Charts
http://uk.my.yahoo.com