Monday, June 7, 2010

Young Couple on the Edge of the Abyss

young couple on the edge of the abyss


She stands to his shoulder draped white
the length of her. Their smiles are thicker
than grief, their arms linked like saplings
(his other arm is a sword).

The past is an avenue of discriminating suns,
their shadows so very nearly benign, and waiting
like guests with gifts and congratulations. The future

walks away out of the picture and into the room
where I sit looking. I will never have
the length of me white, nor the white rose
in line with my eyes. How many different ways

can it hurt? To have. To have not. To hold
moments in squares of colour, make them seem
bright and promising as a prodigy. Now

it is bone and dust, but the blood still rushes
in the progeny, where the sin of the father
visited one night and stole a tiny fist of flowers.

Dead robbers do not matter.

Life is beyond centuries and memory.
Life is beyond the distressed parse of my eye.



Currently living in Argyll, Scotland with her partner, two children and a cat, Gillian Prew ditched philosophy in favour of poetry even though the former still haunts her. She has three collections of poems and has been published at Full of Crow, Counterexample Poetics, Gutter Eloquence, Gloom Cupboard, Fragile Arts Quarterly, 'ditch', and The Glasgow Review among others. She also recently became a 'Featured Artist' at Counterexample Poetics. 
 

No comments: