Tuesday, November 2, 2010

A Poem A Day - 3. Tiny Tiny

Mother mother turned to me she listens like cats with big eyes and tiny tiny
Gentle stirring, you try too hard & work too much be gentle gentle

Sitting there with your long blonde hair you look look certain like 75 ladies
Crouch by here & by her and tackle her long winded problems
She's only got you small small & other things //

Don't frown like that furrow smashing light bulbs into cross-chambers & &
_____suddenly there's not much since and after there's nothing really
God I miss you God I miss you God I miss you.

But only sometimes & then other ways appear and we run long handed
against the brisk and sharp & against the cold and dark

And little lights appear and we snatch them up like children
This is ours this is ours this is ours.


hjgodwin said...


The Rosier is back!

jeff hilson said...

hurrah indeed!

By the way they've cancelled Creative Writing and Dance as a comination at Roehampton.

Nat Raha said...

Hooray for Rosier! fine repetitions.

Rebecca said...

What ho, poetry types! Thanks for your nice comments.

It's clear by now that I am the single most lazy and unfocused writery-type person in the world. One day I will spend some time writing every day, like I intend to most days.

Jeff - no more Dance and Writing?! This is terrible! :( For me, they went so well together. Such a shame.