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.

4 comments:

hjgodwin said...

hurrah!

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.