Sunday, January 24, 2010

I realized when she stood at the door
dressed neatly and perfectly together
hair clipped back, scarf beautifully full around her neck
that I could come in
but never stay

I am not a tame thing I realized
as I noticed the mourning dove cooing
in the big tree above us
I am not all this order and appearance
I am the chaos of the sleeping tree
hair akimbo
uncaring of pants or scarf
shoes hopelessly scuffed from use
I am not what you are used to

You cheated she exclaimed, you cheated
as she ushered me out the door
I turned to say no, I had not
I never broke in on the altar
of gleaming wood floors
and vases full of pink flowers

I will admit in my look
but she cannot see it
that I love him and for a moment
wished I was home
but she closed the red door

silly woman he never lied to you
he has loved you all along
and you have no courage to just be
for me it would have been enough of a gift
to paint the world over

By the Corbyhawk herself.

5 comments:

Jean said...

"I am the chaos of the sleeping tree"... what a beautiful line. Corby, you are an amazing poet.

She doesn't fully know him, does she?
A shame, that.

dianne said...

This is so lovely Corby dear, as usual I am most likely reading more into this, more than I should... but my vivid imagination and reading your words paints a picture for me ... It is a very visual piece of prose and I love the references to the colours of warmth.
It does take courage to just 'be'. ♡

Corby said...

Dianne and Jean,

Thanks, it was an inspired moment!

-Corby

Ann Marie said...

every line is so absolutely wonderful and perfect. thank you for sharing this!

Corby said...

Ann Marie,

Welcome! Thanks, it has been quite some time since I have written anything.

-Corby