Thursday, January 13, 2011

Sanctuary






Sanctuary

It was the time of cold.
The water from the sky ran black like inky blood
and the tree in the dark storm was ripe for burning,
solitary acolyte in a serpentine ceremony of snow.

You kissed my summer dry palms
just before you ran to your winter white pack
far off along the indigo rim of night.
I heard the howling begin

without me. I pulled in the last syllable of stone,
and stripped to bare words. A single step danced me 
from maenad to anchoress, peering through the squint
at your unconsecrated communion.



January 2011






Submitted for the Monday January 10 Prompt at Big Tent Poetry, which was to utilize alliteration by choosing a letter, writing a word list, and using the ideas it generated for subject with a word from it for the title.

Photo: © Copyright Colin Smith and licensed for reuse under  Creative Commons License.
Cell of the anchoress Christine Carpenter, 14th Century. Shere, Surrey, UK 

17 comments:

  1. A waterfall of intense and gorgeous lines-- esp like this: "I pulled in the last syllable of stone,
    and stripped to bare words." I would return the compliment and submit to you, my dear, that you too make literature, such care, command of language, gifted imagery and breadth of vision. xxxj

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  2. "solitary acolyte in a serentine ceremony of snow" is perhaps one of the finest lines I have ever read. Literature, indeed, more than a poem. And I love the winter white wolves (of course) and the howling. "the last syllable of stone". Whoa! This, my girl, is a POEM! Beautiful!

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  3. agreed..."last syllable of stone" that is the line that hits...and sticks until you understand...beautiful...bkm

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  4. I love "You kissed my summer dry palms". It reminds me of Bob Dylan's song "To Ramona." (Your chapped country lips, I still wish to kiss)

    I also love the line the three before me loved. I'm such a follower!

    I also like the notion of a single step dancing someone. You take such care with every word. It shows.

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  5. Lovely poem. Others have already commented on the great lines. I could read this ten times in a row without getting tired. A tiny suggestion, you don't need "black" after "indigo."

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  6. Thanks Sherry & Barb--your words are very generous.

    @FB Glad you liked. Ramona..."and someday maybe, who knows baby / I may come and be crying to you..." that's one of his very old ones--high school, in bed with lights off, listening in the dark music. Thanks for the time travel.

    @Matt Thanks, took your suggestion, reads smoother. Less is more. Much appreciated.

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  7. Oh, I loved that second stanza...so rich with imagery and emotion. Well, I'm being dishonest - I loved the whole thing :)

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  8. This made me shiver with delight, as well as from your cold images. Thank you.

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  9. Your alliteration leaves me wanting to reach out and pull someone in. Well done.

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  10. Joy Ann, I love the images you have created here.
    I love the second stanza, just beautiful.
    Pamela

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  11. Thanks so much, viv, Alice & Pam.

    I'm offline for awhile, but looking forward to visiting everyone's I haven't yet later.

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  12. A stellar piece. Each line carries texture and depth.

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  13. Love how lyrical this is. Especially: I heard the howling begin/without me. That felt like the heart of it to me.

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  14. Fantastic! "You kissed my summer dry palms" wonderfully written!! ~April

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  15. Poignant in its beauty. Thank you for sharing it.

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  16. Bing search helped me understand the change this woman went through. As I edumacate myself.. ..smiles..

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  17. Wow... this is a beautifully moving poem.

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'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg