“Where Remembrance Lives” The Sunday Whirl #119

He puts her on a pedestal, braiding her hair;
on the left he weaves
a crown to the Queen of the Stars;
on the right he weaves
a crown to the Queen of the Moon.
While a kitten purrs in a crib,
crows covet it, keeping its breath
underneath their wings for flight.

In the middle of the night
she revisits this scene
inside an eroded passage
where remembrance lives.

In rooted memories
she vessels strength,
burying herself in the clouds.

She is scarce
against the roundness of his touch,
against the silence along the streets
where ghosts live in another space.

She arrives at the bridge
with copious scars and
lost likeness of affection,
where strange birds with blue legs
and beaks nest.

The bells toll dawn
upon remote mists in alcoves,
as sprouts in the rain grow
new vegetation for one last time
of sacrifice and dreams.

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20 responses to ““Where Remembrance Lives” The Sunday Whirl #119

  1. Haunting, beautiful… I especially like the 2nd and 4th stanzas, Pamela.

  2. My favorite line was “lost likeness of affection” which conjured up the remembrance of the past in the features no longer visible.

  3. What a gentle poem this is, Pamela. Love the scenes being revisited in the middle of the night in the ‘passage where remembrance lives.’ And all ends when the bell tolls dawn!!

  4. there is a magic in this…set up by the opening stanza…it keeps the crows in flight under their wings….vesseling strength buried in clouds…the sacrifice and dreams…interesting piece pamela….

  5. Lovely. Particularly appreciate the closing stanza.

  6. She arrives at the bridge
    with copious scars and
    lost likeness of affection,

    Love these lines! She could recollect an instance of old when her patience was tested. And she was not too happy! That’s my reading of the above. Great take Pamelita!

    Hank

  7. I find it amazing how you can take these ordinary words and weave such extraordinary images that are both beautiful and yet deep with meaning. Love the whole of this, but especially like the ending.

    Elizabeth
    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2013/07/28/after-the-storm/

  8. your imagery is haunting and magical

    much love…

  9. Such sadness in the dark of the night but your poem ends with a hopeful sound of a bell tolling at dawn!

  10. You have used poetic devices to such effect here, Pamela–repetition, enjambment that hurl me through the poem to that place of darkness. I like how the back story is suggested rather than explicit…but it make me want more.

  11. Great images here and a

    In rooted memories
    she vessels strength,
    burying herself in the clouds.

    now that’s not a bad idea

  12. Re: your comment on my blog, in my opinion, I’d rather not comment than leave something that says nothing. It’s a difficult call. Sometimes I look for something I like, whether a word or an image and focus on that. I think it’s best not to comment if you really can’t say anything worthwhile.

    • That is pretty much what I do. I have had some folk who commented on a piece of mine and when I returned the visit. Well, I couldn’t find anything I liked, so, I didn’t say anything. Needless to say, they no longer visit me. I would rather not lie to them, so be it.

  13. Sorry to be so long away, Pamela. I missed your words. The part I especially liked in this are the crows, holding breath under their wings, and the phrase ‘she is scarce against the roundness of his touch..’ A very palpable mood of dream and longing.

    Reading your and Victoria’s comments above, just want to chime in and say I totally agree. I don’t ever try to critique anyone’s writing, but if I can’t find something honestly good to say, I just remain silent. I think it hurts less feelings to do that than to be a phony, saying the exact same meaningless thing at everyone’s blog.

  14. I love the way the crows showed up in this piece, Pamela. A beautiful and interesting dream. Thanks for exploring it here. I love it.

  15. I think I’m liking your unusual use of “vessels” as a verb!

    An Acrostic Whirl

  16. Yes, that eroded passage, where memory lives….lovely choice of words. As always, I love what you write!

  17. “Lost likeness of affection,” that line blew me away. This is a magical mystery tour, Pamelita, and so dark and wonderful! Amelita

I appreciate all comments.

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