Home - Poetry

I know I've been posting a lot of stuff that isn't really writing relating, but it's still writing so that counts right?

To get back into the writing thing though, here's my token post for the writing totems!

Home


I can hardly remember 
the woman who lived here before me 
people speak of her 
either missing her 
or thankful that she's gone. 

There is never a middle ground. 

I find myself trying to remember. 
wondering what she would have 
felt as I watch the sun slip behind 
the silvery mask of the moon 
to be--for a moment--sacrificed 
to the darker side, leaving only that 
hint of brilliance 
a flaming corona of light. 

I wonder if she ever danced 
naked- in love with Tchaikowski 
or made love under the 
warm summer sky. 

I dreamed of her once you know. 
She was walking through a forest 
all white and shining 
looking like a sacrifice. 

The breeze took her then, 
a lover wrapping her in an 
invisible embrace until 
she dissipated into glimmering 
sparks and disappeared. 

I am reminded of the pattern 
of birth and death as I watch 
the sun being released from 
its lunar prison, and comforted 
finally, 
I am free to go home.


©Donna J. P. Riley