Jackdaws leave no note, just gnarled twigs like bony fingers pointing
at the women who live like clichés: alone, on a hill, with cats.
The clichéd cats bring a wet-shocked shrew for the cauldron,
a rabbits’ paw for luck, a toad for a stew and one fat gold
Koi Carp from next door (that the herons take the flack for).
Sometimes, the offerings are alive:
a blackbird jolted onto the altar of our front step,
or a writhing wood pigeon sacrificed before us.
The man who wooed my mother first brought fruit:
ripe mangoes and pineapples sprouting from the mat.
A year later: pulped, blended, cartons of juice leaning
their backs against the door, ready to fall onto the floor laughing.
Sometimes, there are wild garlic leaves wrapped in tissue,
rhubarb and raspberry jam in mayonnaise jars, field mushrooms,
parcels with stamps of unknown warriors, birds of paradise.
But the stone shrine is wide and cold this winter. Offerings
are made elsewhere: a crystal pendant hanging from a fence
rocking itself, kidnapped geraniums taped to a tree, a candle
beside an empty box of matches carefully placed
in a polythene bag, with instructions and her name.
Comments
animan | May 18, 2008 - 14:24
I thought this was a very moving piece and with a good flow and a strong array of images. It gets over a mood of quiet melancholy very well, I feel. A small clutch of pedantic copy-editing queries:
- Koi Carp?
- pendant? (Or, maybe 'pendent' is a widely accepted alternative for the noun form. ?)
- would the meaning come over more strongly with 'leaning their backs', particularly as the rest of the poem is quite grammatically filled out.
minor things - a strong piece
HaiAnh | May 18, 2008 - 15:52
Thank you very much animan, as I am dyslexic I appreciate all the copy-editing I can get. I have made tha altercations now.
Also thank you very much for your encouraging feedback.
x
animan | May 18, 2008 - 18:49
Pleasure.
Also, just thought that maybe flack should be flak, even though the former is an accepted alternative.
But, hang on, haven't you just changed the last line as well?! I seem to remember a different last line, which I think I kind of preferred - this line seems to get a touch too suddenly specific - sorry, if I am being a pain.
Personally, I think dyslexia is a teacher's excuse for suspect language teaching - I know I'll be shot from the rafters for saying that - but I am convinced I can 'cure' anyone of dyslexia - sorry it's a personal crusade of mine!!
Doeslittle | May 18, 2008 - 18:54
I loved this. Very dark and beautiful imagery. My favourite perhaps being the jackdaws at the start. Liked the idea of gnarled twigs pointing at women who live alone with cats on a hill. Great.
HaiAnh | May 18, 2008 - 22:40
Animan, I did indeed change it, I am restless with my poems and change them constantly. I have actually changed it back now!
You have cure? tell all.
Doeslittle, I have a penchant for jackdaws at the moment, so glad you liked it and thank you very much for feedback.