Roethke’s Sister

ballerina-in-a-deaths-head-salvador-dali-1939

[Ballerina  in a Death’s Head, Salvador Dali, 1039]

Roethke’s Sister

–mickey morgan

I think of him, who allows me into his thought time,

brings me to a clean clear image in another life.

It is determined, it must be this way.

Things become one thing, stay a little while and then become another

for no reason. Change needs no reason for being change.

And I am not mother or lover and so cannot demand one anyway.

I fill this time as I always have constructing intricate decorations

of blood-red garnets, sky-deep opals, Christmas tinsels.

He talks of my milk-naked flesh cut

 beneath the weight of decor.

Once again,  I feel hope.  I have felt this before.

A hope that never catches what it claws,

that keeps falling again and again, then

forgets, reshapes, recurs.

One more stupid round.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s