wearing that story
for so long I forgot
I had slipped it on
*
bad hem day—
tripping on my own
once upon a time
*
rumors of my self
catch on morning sun, snag on
the wake of herons
*
with one hand, I stitch
the small tears, with the other,
I rip out the seams
*
naked
the scent
of hyacinth
Beautiful allusion and metaphor. The phrasing is particularly effective and the denouement revealing and succinct. I love this lyrical piece – well done.
thank you, Mike, for your thoughtful response
I catch two brilliant word-choices; third and fourth undoings:
“…the _wake_ of herons” could mean either the displacement of air behind them, behind their flight; or since we’re talking of the morning sun, it could also mean rising from sleep/bed
“…I stitch/the small _tears_,…” how are we pronouncing this word: “teers,” or “tahrs”? again, they each/both work.
now, the first undoing is something for us to chew on: the ways we persist wearing old clothes, out-dated labels, accustomedly unawares; and then in the next, we trip over old stumbles left in our paths
i’m really seeing here the play in your wordplay
Definitely playing here, thanks for seeing and playing along, Hugs to you r
That number four makes me smile, the idea of both hands at odds with each other. And of course, that’s the undoing in spades! And I like that 1 thru 4 are clothing, with that hyacinth standing in for nothing. And probably not an undoing, but a seeing.