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Baba Voena
21:16 Jul 13 2010
Times Read: 1,142
Bowed again to her toil,
Grandmother Gray
Forms expert holes
In the long-staunched earth.
She wears her red inside
Beneath a knotted scarf,
Behind a dusty apron
Worn away to threads.
She ties the red inside
Each morning when she wakes
From earth dreams
Of sown corpses
Which shore the blood sea
Flowing from mother land
To dritte reich,
Foundlings all
Of sorrow and shame.
A terrible, mighty sea,
The roaring surf,
The crashing voice,
A continent's tidal swell of pain
Crying out to be seen,
Crying out to be heard.
Grandmother Gray
Wears her red inside
Bowed over the prayer-soaked earth
Re-sowing expert holes
With tiny seeds of green,
Green dreams of tomorrow
When she may dance again
Shamelessly in a dress of red
Across a land of yawning joy.
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COMMENTS
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birra
01:03 Jul 14 2010
Brilliant. absolutely brilliant.
It made me think of my grandmother, how she would always do her gardening with a babushka on her head, and an apron covering her old, tattered clothing that should could patch again and again, so why throw them away?
The land where I would garden after she passed quickly stopped growing bountiful harvests like she used to get it to... I think that part of the Earth missed her footsteps and loving hands...
Joli
01:42 Jul 14 2010
That's gorgeous, birra. I like the thought of the earth missing her touch.
BLOODLIFE
08:07 Jul 14 2010
So beautifully descriptive, hard not to get caught up in wild imaginings.
To describe Grandmother Gray from her 'expert holes', brilliant!