The recent windy weather has caused our local herring gulls to circle round the houses instead. It reminded me of a poem I wrote some time ago – I called it Seagull but am changing the title as I keep getting stick for using the generic term ‘Seagull’!
If you close your eyes, can you hear
the sea-shell hiss of silence or
the distant echo of existence
If you close your eyes, do you sense
scented traces of lavender
with a hint of sacred hyssop
If you close your eyes, listen –
can you hear the birch blethering
as the breeze brushes past the leaves
If you close your eyes, crush the leaves
do you inhale zest of verbena
or essence of purple sage
If you close your eyes, can you taste
spicy notes of helichrysum
wafted on a passing gust
If you close your eyes, inhale –
does a whiff of Coty lipstick
prompt an Italian flashback
Open your eyes
breathe in
heed the Kookaburra
crush the leaves of of the eucalypt
breathe out
Ah,
glove –
hiding?
but still pink –
how did you escape?
did your right hand abandon you?
I guess I should say sorry but I don’t want pink gloves
I want racy, lacy, leather,
see-through and blatant
frivolous
sexy
black
gloves
Pink
looks
pretty,
they tell me,
adds a touch of froth –
I don’t like capuccino
but long for aromatic, freshly ground espresso
thickly black as liquid leather
can you imagine
Marlene
in pink
at
all?
So
glove
you see
that is why
I threw you away
you are not for me now I’m old
I desire black, burgundy, cerulean blue
carnelian and celadon
dragon’s blood or gold
but never
a drunk
tank
pink
Published in The Fib Review #29 – February 2018
http://www.musepiepress.com/fibreview/diana_stevens1.html
