I dream of dahlias dying;
wake up half past late
and a quarter from crying.
Every joint is grinding.
Every bone is an ache.
I dream of dahlias dying.
I have a fear of flying.
I hesitate to medicate
till I'm a quarter from crying.
I have a fear of flying
and becoming what I hate -
a dahlia dying.
The work of untying
all the knots of me you've made -
all the talking and crying
I'm finding
to be a waste.
I dream of dahlias dying
and wake a quarter from crying.
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Thursday, September 18, 2014
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About Me
- Maude Lynn
- Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. ---Flannery O'Connor
10 comments:
So painful, Kelli. "All the knots of me you've made, all the talking and crying." I so know.
I find this poem in it's pain and the use of rhyme so excellent.. and to feel like a dahlia dying .. a lot of autumn feel in that..
This is EXCEPTIONAL!
I am still writing at Noh Where (or I will be soon I hope). But I am also using Blogger for photography at: mydowntownblog here:
http://mydowntownblog.blogspot.com/2014/09/inside.html
Please come by and see me. Thanks, Liz
the repetition is so much like a cry--such a painful sense here
I like the "quarter from crying". Such a vulnerable and sad feeling you've put to words here.
I had that dream but could not tell it so well.
Fantastic.
Painfully poetic, wow.
Ahhh! Villanelle MZ style.. my day is complete.
A lovely, lovely, lovely poem! It speaks directly to my heart.
brilliant, MZ ~
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