The Goddess


The Morgue File by Agila

she burns her face in black
bark, etching new stories
on old parchment,
traces birth
death
in the lines around her eyes

they tell the story
of the green man now gone
the lamb left behind
as birds piston in acrid air

only roots remember his name

thin bones, wrapped in white hair
she affixes snow sprigs
bright and brittle.
they snap
and span
frigid air

long fingers spread shoots,
green with spring thrum,
push them down
into snow banks

let the green sleep awhile yet
in silent memory



copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017

originally published at With Painted Words, Dec 2017, ISSN 2042-3543Publisher: Four Parts Press
Place of publication: UK

Posted for Poets United and for dVerse

Comments

  1. Stunning! My only complaint about your writing is that you don't do enough of it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This is incredibly beautiful. Such amazing imagery. Just wonderful, Audrey!

    ReplyDelete
  3. A wonderful piece of poetry... I can almost feel that I can wait a bit longer for spring to come.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I adored this especially your wonderful words to describe this wintry goddess....she seems to have a purpose....

    'long fingers spread shoots,
    green with spring thrum,
    push them down
    into snow banks'


    and makes me understand that nature must let winter extend for a while longer....'let the green sleep.'
    Of course I have no choice to wait these days with another storm coming.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Audrey, thank you for such a vivid write, written with such confidence and bravura...

    ReplyDelete
  6. Ah, this so evokes the time right before spring....while the green is YET sleeping, but not for long.

    ReplyDelete
  7. "let the green sleep awhile yet in silent memory" ... Wow!!πŸ’–πŸ’– Beautifully rendered.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Green waits to be born, to push its face into the sun... Your words are beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Stunning and nuanced imagery in this ~ truly brilliant ~ piece., Audrey. This is so impactful. I love it!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Wow! Audrey have missed reading your work. Your words so precise you make the images of your metaphors so real, so tactile that one forgets one is reading until the deeper meanings hit your core! Lovely, lovely work!

    ReplyDelete
  11. Winter's not so bad. Of course, I live about a hundred miles from Mexico. I have friends in the Northeast that would wish to melt those icy fingers today. But you do Old Lady Winter a fitting verse

    ReplyDelete
  12. There's so much to love about this poem of old parchment and new birth. I especially love the lines:
    '...birds piston in acrid air';
    'she affixes snow sprigs
    bright and brittle';
    and
    'long fingers spread shoots,
    green with spring thrum'.
    Spring thrum is such a vivid sight, sound and feeling!

    ReplyDelete
  13. Stunning imagery.
    I hope the green wakes soon, I wait patiently for her splendour.
    Anna :o]

    ReplyDelete
  14. "green with spring thrum,
    push them down
    into snow banks"

    ..And they shall rise again! Don't foget : )
    Neat write.
    ZQ

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

I appreciate your comments and thoughts--thank you for stopping by! I don't always reply here, but always try to reciprocate--so hang in there, I will be over to your blog in a jiffy!

Popular Posts