At first, I tried to shiver off these lights.
They scared me because I thought
the stars had fallen, were burning
in my arms. So much is different now,
but I’ve gotten used to them
and the other objects, the ache
where I drink water. The air
is dry, and there’s never any wind.
The noises are all different, the smells.
After what happened that day,
my neighbors and I tried to
figure it out, what we had done
wrong, what was happening then,
what would become of us next.
The wind was everywhere,
and I wasn’t pointed toward the sky
anymore. I am now, I guess. This is
peaceful, in its way. Still, there’s
a crow I miss, and so much
to tell him; I’ll be ready when
the truck comes, any day now,
to take me back home.
For Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.
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dang, i wanna know what happened….ha….nice tension you built with that…and the talking with the crow in the end…really great touch in my opinion…there is an interesting foreboding feel to this…like i know i did something wrong…
There’s something hiding in this poem … not going to tell you … 😉
Isn’t this about a Christmas tree, cut down, put upright in a stand, and now holding lights? But I don’t see something hiding inside the poem!
Yes, you got it … I had the impression that Brian didn’t know what the persona was, exactly. Which I liked … that’s why I didn’t title or tag it as Christmas. 🙂
Intriguing…. I know what I think is there, but I’d hate to be wrong and embarrass myself or, worse, insult you, so I’ll keep it to myself.
Oh, no, you couldn’t insult me! If you don’t see it exactly how I do, it would just interest me to know. Fire away, please.
This is rather sad – I think of trees as human alter egos anyway. Must admit my first read through, I thought it might be an allusion to the scare crow in the Wizard of Oz (or more likely to a character in Wicked) but I was aided by the comments and your “giveaway” that it was a Christmas tree. It’s a really clever piece (when noted) and yet it still leaves me feeling “a bit cut down”. Merry Christmas, anyway although we have a couple of #openlinknights until that date!
Yeah, it’s definitely not a happy poem, and I wanted some ambiguity so it wasn’t right on the button, as far as who’s speaking. I love our tree, and we always drop them off to be chipped and “recycled,” which mitigates things somewhat — but I do always feel for this sort-of still living thing.
Very mysterious with a beautiful lyricism. Love it.
..very fascinating… though i felt a bit short of entire scene… i think you could have done this in a longer form… a Sestina for example… but nonetheless, you have a great voice in it… smiles…
Oh, I love this. Merry Christmas to you and your family, Marilyn!