On
Viewing the Colonnade
of
the Manchester
If
only the heart had its own colonnade,
stone
lions to guard its tenderness,
how
it winces and shudders in the chest.
So
that when dark news comes
on
darker mornings, faith eclipsed,
vein-webbed
hands still,
we
might feel the plunge of the red hawk
in
our chests and stand strong.
I
am no match for dark news,
despite
my spine’s luminous colonnade.
Lions
of fear bark in me the night long.
And
then light verges on the world
so
that what we have done to one another
is
a bas relief of war on salt-abraded
walls.
Ever,
the inner voice speaks:
Endure.
But
the portico resolve builds
falls
to grief’s sea; alabaster dissolves
to
stuttering brack, the mind
goes
eclipse-dark,
even
the staunchest heart bears
watermark
and stain.
to see the photo prompt leading to this poem visit Tess Kincaid's The Mag.
Jenne' R. Andrews
Copyright February 2013
5 comments:
Sensitive and insightful. Well done...
A stand-out for this week's prompt, Jenne. Beautiful and lyrical. I especially like your first stanza and also the line "my spine's luminous colonnade". Wonderful!
Touching, intelligent write, Jen...endure...yes...
That's fair wonderous. I love the feel of it... Endure. Really, a very powerful piece.
This line is just one that strikes a chord in me, Jenne: ..."we might feel the plunge of the red hawk
in our chests and stand strong."
Hard to choose only one from your imaginative lines, which describe so succinctly, a painful state that holds many of us in its' grip at the hearing, or often unreasonable anticipation, of bad news.
Congratulations on your recently published poems.
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