I was listening to classical music as I ran errands this morning. Although I'd love to pretend I'm educated enough to have recognized the music, I'm not and I didn't. It was lovely, though, and hauntingly sad.
My daughter turns 18 today, a wonderful moment, which was also in the mix. She has Asperger's, and is naive and capable, overwhelmed and overwhelming at turns. And now she's 18.
With all of this in my head, I had a mental picture that became a poem. How strangely romantic, to express music and emotion in a poem. But it wants out, so here it is.
The vase is ancient,
The lines graceful.
Color shifts along its length
From a breath to a flame.
I love to see it on the mantle.
The crack is thinner than a hair.
No flowers.
My daughter turns 18 today, a wonderful moment, which was also in the mix. She has Asperger's, and is naive and capable, overwhelmed and overwhelming at turns. And now she's 18.
With all of this in my head, I had a mental picture that became a poem. How strangely romantic, to express music and emotion in a poem. But it wants out, so here it is.
The vase is ancient,
The lines graceful.
Color shifts along its length
From a breath to a flame.
I love to see it on the mantle.
The crack is thinner than a hair.
No flowers.
2 comments:
touching,haunting,beautiful poem.thank you....
A beautiful poem.
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