blood circles

February 16, 2007

She turns, says: ‘I have trouble smiling,
because of the shape of my mouth.’
‘I wish you’d told me. So all this time
you should’ve been smiling?’. River
curves past. I trace cloud pictures.

Amanda’s hat
is a hide. Everything
is loosely choreographed:

a circle dance of white roses
around the couple who are touched
by the light. The priest’s voice
draws sun: ‘circles

are like our star. Rings will wrap
around fingers as the cycle of days

weds the turn of earth.’ We know
the gentle roll of this sphere
to be as heavy as time. Amanda’s hat
is like her mother’s –

a plate of broken bird. Blood circles
to mend wings. Her lover
touches her; she glides in sun
to catch flowers. She turns.


2 Responses to “blood circles”

  1. I like. Would it be justifiable to say that this is more surrealist that your usual fare, its just that with the hat-hide connection you’ve got that vaguely absurd *transmorphisation* thing going on… weirdly beautiful, and resonant.

  2. Thankyou… surrealist? I hadn’t noticed, but you could be correct. I think some others are a bit surreal but this one not especially… then again, you’re more of an authority on such matters, so I’ll bow to your judgement.

    Wierdly beautiful is exactly what I aim for, so that comment means a lot to me.

    Thanks again Peter, and thankyou Hare.

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