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Today is 9th September 2010 |
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etcetera.online
Cherwell's creative and literary supplement
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a poem by Roman Cassini
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 See other poems by this author
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Curtains
Mulled wine curtains scatter musty sunlight
Over this place
Where I go.
Sometimes when the trees outside rustle the night
Time her face
Appears so
Real. The corners of the room surround
Me, her ash
Hands carry
Me through crumbling tunnels and then around
Me lights flash
Silently.
And I am lifted above those pathways
Earthen with
Enduring
Memories of imagined Summer days;
I relive
In drawings
Mist-leaden by my swiftly closing eyes –
There’s thunder!
I can feel
It brooding; now it ripples through the sky,
And under
Ailing steel
I gaze at the mulled wine curtains that drape
Hazily
Reflected
Scenes of the world she learned to create –
‘Reality’
Perfected.
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Notes:
Hallucinations etc
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Posted: 8th November 2008
Words: 153
Viewed: 322 times
Comments: 0
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