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Poetry
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September
By Keller
19 September 2007
This boy with ashes in his hair
is who I have been loving;
feeling the heat of his hand
in mine.  Seeing him walk away
is harder than I dreamt
it would be.
 
This boy held me in his arms,
pressed berries into my fingers
and laid me down in gold
just to see it light my face.
No one has ever owned me
like he did.
 
I am fearful of this silvered girl,
whose eyes are like diamonds;
hanging heavy and cold.
She blows the cinders away,
her cool hands over his eyes;
he begins to sleep.
 
But today they swam together
each sliding into cool waters,
watching leaves burn above them.
I turn inside, picking coals
from a cold, morning grate,
awaiting his return.

Reviews

Written by andybyers (171 comments posted) 19th September 2007
Whew. Wow. I see in this an allusion to the end of summer and the coming of winter. But I can see other things, too... darker, more longing things. The fear of losing someone special to someone else, and such delights in simple, honest pleasures. An aching, maybe unrealistic hope that things can be as they were. There's a character to it that goes beyond the seasonal to feelings billions of people must have felt over the eons. It's an admirable, even enviable work.
Very nice Keller
Written by Talisker (1326 comments posted) 20th September 2007
I think that you demonstrate here what turns a group of words into a poem.  
 
There is much to admire - sensuality and emotion in every line.  
 
For me a poem is an elevation of the written word, taking it from the mundane to higher levels, challenging the reader's imagination without dumbfounding. This ticks all the boxes. 
 
Oli  
 
P.S. I particularly like "picking coals from a cold, morning grate" - perfect symbolism :)

Written by gutterkitty (362 comments posted) 20th September 2007
I love it. Finding it hard to hone in on specific parts that I like because it all seems perfect to me! 
Thanks Keller.
And
Written by Talisker (1326 comments posted) 20th September 2007
Keller, 
 
If you need some help with picking those fence splinters from your backside... 
 
I am a trainee nurse & the offer is purely from a professional perspective you understand. 
 
Oli :grin
Blimey!
Written by Keller (19 comments posted) 20th September 2007
Isn't it funny how some poems write themselves? 
 
I literally penned this one in 10 mins during my lunch break, but some of the ones I agonise over for months never amount to anything near publishable! 
 
Thanks for your comments, I will have to print them off I'm so taken aback! 
 
And, Talisker, I would never have taken that offer as anything less than professional!

Written by Phil (6730 comments posted) 20th September 2007
Liked this very much - I think it's the final stanza that gives it the impact and depth.  
 
Phil.

Written by Bottleblondesurfer (3360 comments posted) 20th September 2007
I'm not a poet and this style of poetry ususally leaves me unmoved but there was something here that chimed with me. Not very helpful, sorry. 
Strong words, quietly spoken sums it up for me 
Jane

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