Wet Song

A Poem By Anna // 6/21/2014

His breaths are copper leaves ripped from a cedar.
She hears the gale in his chest rattle the blinds.
Before the bed can roll over to smother them,
She heaves it off, hearing the storm slam into the window.
She tastes the salt in the downpour, feels
wetness speckle the backs of her hands.
“Abraham’s tree has its foot in the water”—
at this staticky song of the weather report,
she laces her boots with typha, lifts him
in one thin arm, and cradles him over miles of
sharp puddles. They slice at her soles, but she splashes
and runs. After all, goldfish love racing leaves
into the bottomless storm drain of fidelity.
The earth-worm scent of mud fills her nostrils.
She hooks his cannula to a nimbus, praying his lungs
will fill like sails. It’s raining, it’s pouring,
the young man is warring, memento mori.
She hears no storm slam into the window.
It will blast again if she can only open this umbrella,
but despite her struggle to unfurl the spokes,
still he will not breathe the sky.
Gilded rust leaves clog the storm drain.

Comments

I love this and I am so glad

I love this and I am so glad you will be posting for the summer! And happy birthday:)

Erin | Sun, 06/22/2014

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

Happy belated birthday!

This is incredibly haunting and complex to me... I feel like there's this huge metaphor lurking in the shadows, taunting me and teasing me for not seeing. Very good! The wording was spectacular!

Kassady | Sun, 06/22/2014

"Here's looking at you, Kid"
---
Write On!

This seems representative of

This seems representative of a girl frantically trying to help somebody emotionally. Really, the whole message is elusive but I found this poem vibrant. It almost read like a song. Your word choice was lovely as well--it really made certain parts really pop. What was your idea behind this, if you'd like to share?

Glad you're back, Anna! Happy belated birthday! :)

Madeline | Sun, 06/22/2014

everything was better when/you would call and I'd be like/yeah babe, no way

:)

Glad you posted (and looking forward to more....)!
I like the vivid imagery of this poem. I agree with Homey, the message is pretty elusive, but if...you'd care to share?
And happy happy birthday!

Maddi | Mon, 06/23/2014

Goodbye? Oh no, please. Can’t we just go back to page one and start all over again?” – Winnie The Pooh

:)

yay! I'm so glad you posted it. :) We were internetless till yesterday, being on the road, but it made my day when I saw. :)
My favorite part is:
"It’s raining, it’s pouring,
the young man is warring, memento mori."

Kyleigh | Mon, 06/23/2014

OH my gosh

You had better be a published poet some day... This is as good, if not better, than what I've read in literary journals lately.

Sarah Bethany | Mon, 06/23/2014

I read it again...

I can just smell everything. I feel as if I were eating a feast. So many strong, fully-rounded images!! I agree with Homey about a girl trying to emotionally save someone - those were my thoughts, too. I relish every word, but these lines are my favorite: "After all, goldfish love racing leaves / into the bottomless storm drain of fidelity." This is the sort of poem I'd want to share on Facebook, just to show the world, "Look what I found! Do you like it, too?"

Sarah Bethany | Mon, 06/23/2014

Thank youuu all

I wouldn't say I had one central idea behind the poem. We were given the assignment to work 20 different prompts into a poem, and the edited version keeps about 16 of them. And they were pretty random. But I was organizing the poem around the idea of the rainstorm being a metaphor for an illness putting emotional strain on a marriage. However much or little that came through, I'm really glad you all liked it!

@Kyleigh: That was a lot of the class's favorite bit, too. :) It definitely works the best rhythmically.
@Sarah Bethany: Aaand that was my prof's favorite part! And mine, I think. Thanks so much - that's a HUGE compliment.

Anna | Fri, 06/27/2014

I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. --The Book Thief

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