The RetroLounge Daily Poem Thread (Sat 5/3/2008)

[RetroLounge]

Body Sonnet #13

Our beach finds fill the kitchen bowl:
split blue mussel, ark shell, oyster, whelk
stripped to its column. Tonight, the boys asleep
upstairs, we face each other at the table

and rattle shells in our hands. I can't see yours.
I hold the whelk and two bleached oyster chips.
I like their noise. I like knowing what's lived
inside. You say, We haven't talked for weeks.

You say I look too thin. I want to tell you
my child-ribs surprised me last night in the mirror.
I play my little shells, the meter
of the speech I want to make, the piano

for the singing in my head, the piano
with its bony, knowing hammers.

Heidi Hart

***********************

:hi:

RL

[lizziegrace]

1. ...

:hug:

"We haven't talked for weeks."

feels like the beginning of the end. So sad.

[RetroLounge]

3. I know the feeling

:hug:

RL

[CaliforniaPeggy]

2. My dear Retro...

The marriage is hidden in the midst of those shells...

They are hiding themselves there too...

Such a sad feeling indeed...

But beautiful at the same time...

Thank you!

:hi: