|Inspired by the phrase ‘You are cool, like silver’, from the poem ‘Madonna of the Evening Flowers’ written by Amy Lowell. |
This now comprises a part of The Linkages Project
Cool, she was like silver. Dapples
on the rolling, falling waters
of a stream come out of sunrise
slide to glisten. On the rocks
as smooth as thigh out-stretched,
she taught the way. To reach
and to become as one
with flowing water, to know it’s secrets
and the treasure of eddied places,
slow measure a path across the bed,
through rapids and turbulence. Don’t
rush, don’t fall.
Cool she was, like silver trapped
or caught. Inside a playground of
the moon, under a soft light and
shining. A waving dance
of shimmers, to mesmerise. Me?
I was lost. In time, control,
and knowledge far too early. For
the coolness of her silver
purchased only one long shiver. I
could not heed, nor halt. So fast,
too fast expired, I could not slow and
I, could not go on.
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