What She Saw

frilly daylily

 

A daylily, ruffled and still

with folds of fresh linen (freshly

made bed) soaking up sunshine on

laundry-day line. She paused there, caught

helplessly on its anthers, struck

by the glory that withered while

she watched. ‘Why bother?’ she asked no

one in particular. Leaning

in, she traced the petticoats, breathed

deep of Arabian nights, veiled

virgins dancing on memory’s

edge. Eloquence beckoned on pale

finger with nail painted purple,

folding to hide philosopher’s

stone. Time passed. Conquerors and kings

and sleeping beauties, history

and fantasy, who she could be

in the morrow swayed and unfurled

in complex rhythms and secret

whispers. Her back straightened, rigid

barrier, and, closing her eyes,

she walked blindly back to the house.

 

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14 comments on “What She Saw

  1. parth893 says:

    Wonderful Poem πŸ™‚

  2. Gallivanta says:

    Lovely. Interesting how laundry and clothes lines influence our lives; in my case they get a bit bossy and domineering 😦

  3. Wow Wow Wow, Mel–I need to read it a few more times, as it’s like a good movie.

  4. This fantastical ambush in the storytelling then, turning herself back inside ~ well that’s exactly what we don’t do, we experience our fantasies within ! Wonderful analogy !

  5. Lori Lipsky says:

    Beautiful syllabic poem, Melody.

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