Monday, October 10, 2011

She Sleeps

Brittle bones.
Shallow breaths.
The crone sleeps
and starts to dreaming

of a fertile womb
and pliant skin
and nimble hands,
her time of bleeding.

Slick with sweat.
Breathing fast.
I'm jerked awake
by my own screaming.

In a ragged tomb
of wrinkled skin
and a strange heart's
fragile beating.

For Open Link Monday at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

15 comments:

Fireblossom said...

Oh wow! I would love to know how you came to write this. It's jolting, in a good way.

Kay L. Davies said...

Ooh, this one cuts close to the bone. Well done, MZ.

Kay, Alberta, Canada
An Unfittie’s Guide to Adventurous Travel

Sylvia K said...

Ah, damnit! It does indeed cut close to the bone! Whatever inspired it is SO right on, MZ! Have a lovely evening!

Sylvia

hedgewitch said...

So, you've been by my place in the morning?


(Seriously, good stuff.)

Susannah said...

This is excellent. :-)

Laurie Kolp said...

Spine tingling good!

Eric 'Bubba' Alder said...

Winter is coming to settle in our bones, so enjoy the autumn while it lasts.

Caty said...

wow! age just kinda creeps in and slaps across the face one morning, huh?

Fred said...

Wicked write. Love it. Every stanza is amazing, love the first and third the most, as they really set things going for each half of the poem. Great job, thanks

Kerry O'Connor said...

We carry all of our youth, and all of our old-age with us in any given moment - your poem made me realize just how scary that is.

Marian said...

yikes!

Richard Cody said...

Funny... I just read Yeats' "The Pensioner's Song" (not sure if that's the correct title) which is on the topic of being "transfigured by time".

brenda w said...

I felt myself "jerked awake" with the crone, face-to-face with eternity. Brilliant write with exquisite depth. I love the language you used to describe the crone's dream impressions.

unsungpoet said...

Quite eye-opening...Such realism, it happens to the best of us!

Mary said...

Intense! Love it.