Friday, August 9, 2013

Moth Mirror



Moth Mirror




I know we lived on honeysuckle,
eye-spot moths above the mirror cave
back when we could have been saved.

Each dawn blew the first rose of summer
each night the last stars took
long dives through black nothing

to shine in your dark eyes.
We believed things
we said then. We'd looked in the mirror

to see who we were, for certainly
all that we saw there was true
but to wing-eyed moths

it only showed how to burn, 
only showed the glove of your love
slipped on me all dazzled 

with starbroken glass,
only my back spread for your blanket
across four seasons salt phosphorescent

cloud grass, till blind husk and ash 
in the blow of the last autumn day,
the mirror turned ice let us fly away.



~August 2013






posted for     real toads
Challenge: Hungry and Haunted
Hannah has turned the torch of her transforming Fridays to a rather unique spot on this earth, the Salar de Uyuni, a great salt flat/lake in Bolivia. Visit the link above to learn more about it, and to see some stunning photography of its mirror-like aspects. I've tried to work that image into the title theme with this one.





Images: The Salar de Uyuni viewed from space, and a mature luna moth, both  public domain via wikipedia

16 comments:

  1. Your flight of words leaves me breathless in this one, Hedge, and all of your poems impress me deeply. But this one even more so. Too many reasons to list. Fantastic writing!

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  2. You've brought such a visual glassy feeling to this poem...I love so much how you used first and last in that second stanza...your unique description of a falling star is not lost on me...wow...I just love when a new perspective of what can be an a common image emerges...fresh! Beautiful presentation, Hedge...I enjoy my visits with you. Thank you for writing today!

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  3. "My back spread for your blanket" is such a terrific line - yeowch. A wonderful, if poignant, way of expressing a great deal. This is a super original poem. I also found the second and third stanzas especially telling - that kind of deception and flying near the flame. Wonderfully depicted here - rich with imagery and, now, dried salt. Very cool. k.

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  4. I feel all glossy and slippery, sleek and smooth and unsubstantial.

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  5. The last two stanzas are specially beautiful ~ I like the turn from How to burn, to the mirror turned ice, ending ~ Wow ~

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  6. The moth images seems to have a bit of the shimmery slat on its back - perhaps thats what you mean in the next to last stanzas (to me anyway).

    I also like "back when we could have been saved"... moths are a bit self-destructive at times.

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  7. I love the way your mind works! This poem is awesome.
    K

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  8. Moth Mirror...a beautiful title to grace such an wonderful poem. "starbroken glass" love that description

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  9. magic....the back as your blanket...all that we saw was true...it only showed how to burn...ha...cool pairing of lines there....and all in trying to see who we were....very cool poem joy

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  10. This is the kind of poem which just fills me up - perhaps I'm a sucker for lovers trying to find their way in the dark, through the seasons of change. I love it in its entirety, but these lines are especially beautiful:

    each night the last stars took
    long dives through black nothing

    to shine in your dark eyes.

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  11. Hedge, enigmatic poem. I love big moths, the eye spots on their inner wings... and this poem says much more... "We believed things we said then." Yes, I see this so clearly. Beautiful write, Hedge. Amy

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  12. A feast of beautiful images. So love "starbroken glass". I think of the fairytale ice queen melting in her ego madness.

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  13. just love the depth of this nature piece

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  14. " back when we could have been saved.

    Each dawn blew the first rose of summer
    each night the last stars took
    long dives through black nothing

    to shine in your dark eyes.
    We believed things
    we said then. "

    Okay, you made me cry. For some reason, this puts me in mind of Graham Nash's song "Simple Man", but this is poetry.

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  15. "We believed things we said then" --- oh, yes, back when everything seemed a possibility. I loved this poem, hedgewitch. It will linger with me.

    I haven't been getting around the blogs as much as I'd like due to the torn tendon in my shoulder, but at least it's starting to heal up. I hope you enjoy your break and find some magic tucked inside every day.

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  16. I'm enraptured by your textures. eye-spot, mirror cave, long dive, glove love, starbroken glass, cloud grass-- and all coming across very personally. Your ending lines evoked for me a kind of free finality. great work.

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