This wonderful woman - she
cobbles her life together with
two bits of string
and a plum  - dangling,
measuring, eating,
dying and rising into the
red, being strung along
by life - she's brave
as dawn that one -
threading her necklace as
fast as it unstrings - she
has strange imaginings
strange wings and her
words are marvellous
strange to hear and
even stranger to understand - if
that is possible at all -
doubtful - I hear she
broke herself like a china
vase on the floor - she's
in the glueing business now,
I hazard the glue and the
string won't win her
eternal life but they'll
keep her together
long enough to do more
hobbling, and to
stand with her arms
firm, her wings closed
and her body warm  - for a
while a wonderful
woman gathering.
Collected Works
Return to Collections all
next poem