Monday, February 6, 2006

Vernus Abortivus

Vernus Abortivus

She slipped into bed naked,
nestled under a birdsong blanket,
and propped herself on a pillow
stitched from easterly breezes
and spider silk.

Calla lilies lulled her and she slept
where music ripens on the vine
and sweetens the lips of spring,
the way grape juice
stains a child's smile.

Butterfly wings painted arias
inside her eyelids and hung them
askew in chittering squirrel holes,
but it was the art of suicide.

This exhibit of buds was born too early -
miscarried into a flurry of February,
and all that was left on the drifted canvas
was a strawberry birthmark.


4 comments:

  1. Hello, my dear friend. This is very cool. The second stanza: fanfuckingtastic!

    be well.

    ~ James

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  2. This is my favorite! You say what I photo - that is soooo cool! Great verbage, Erin!

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  3. Erin, I can't say that I fully understand every nuance in this one, but I get the sense that you're conveying the blissful months of having Nova home, and the impending fear of returning him to the hospital for surgery. Am I totally off on this? Maybe I'm trying too hard to read deeply into it, but that's what I'm taking away.

    Sort of a false sense of security that's been shattered.

    For what it's worth, I love the imagery in this one.

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  4. James~
    Hello sweety! I'm glad you enjoyed this, in part or in whole! Good to see you here, as always!

    Mandie~
    To have a talented photographer compare my poetry to photography is a compliment of the highest order! Thank you so much!

    Ang~
    There is actually a whole story behind this one - mostly this insane Carolina weather, and some birds at sunset the other night. As for your evaluation, it's very close - most definitely it's about the false sense of security that has been challenged lately - the comfort level that we made up for ourselves that has been snatched away with the surgery date looming closer.

    Anyway, I'm not one to start with a rigid plan when I write a poem. Often, I start with a thought or image and follow it where it leads. I wish this one had led to a more hopeful tone and happier ending.

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