Sunday, October 19, 2014

The Spinning End of a Solstice

Early winter was a warm couch
In a cold room,  vintage shrill
Of a tea kettle breaking
The still air of my kitchen,
When I began to piece
The parts of myself together.
The ink across the inside
Of her left wrist, now meaningless.
November begrudgingly became
A fall shadow, butterflies
Disappearing from the wildflower
In my backyard into the secretive,
Electric buzz of hives not yet
Touched by the sin of human hands.
I met her by the smoky wood
Of a winter solstice, my lips
Brushing hers beneath a twilight
Of candied  street lanterns,
How they shined the glow of
Their sugared globes across our faces,
Bathing my front steps
an ethereal illumination.
Time would soon close the
Last door of December as
A secret no one could know yet.
She became a shiny shadow in the
Soap bubble of my evening dishwater,
The rising sun of a summer equinox,
As brazen to my skin as the
road rash of each midnight,
the red of her car chasing the moon
down a strip of back-road
Like a lone alpha fox.
The soft of her skin was fine dining
Compared to the sticky stubble
Of men I could never love.
And on a bitter new years’ eve
As the wind spun the stars
In circles across the moon
Like a string of fairy lights,
Drug-store wine burning my pallet
While I drank alone
I imagined her at the night café,
Its rustic signs and the smell of alcohol
Reminding her of a pub somewhere
Off an interstate in Georgia,
When I realized it was the touch
Of her hands I’d been missing
For most of my life.

Written from my prompt at 'Warning The Stars' Saturday.  


  1. I like how "Early winter was a warm couch / In a cold room," and gradually unfolds itself...the shiny shadow in the soap bubble and drinking alone pallet being burned are two very sad phases of a life.. though there are sugared globes in beautifully woven...

    1. I agree with Sumana....this beginning is a perfect start to a gradual unfolding of astoundingly stunning imagery.

  2. This is such a beautiful remembering , full of rich imagery. I especially like "The soft of her skin was fine dining Compared to the sticky stubble Of men I could never love." and "I realized it was the touch Of her hands I’d been missing For most of my life." Wonderful! I loved it.

  3. Wow . this is an amazing poem of sorrow.. and how one can feel when absence is burning. The image of a shiny soap bubble remains with me.. Lovely.

  4. This is truly stunning. You have a way of writing a situation that draws the reader right in. I like the sharing of memories, the yearning, the imagining, the missing. Whew - great writing, Stacy.

  5. was a "lacey" way getting there ...through your lines. Excellent piece :-)

  6. This is very good, Stacy. You convey such a lot through this poem, through great imagery. "When I realized it was the touch / Of her hands I’d been missing / For most of my life." - my favorite lines.

  7. I love how you weave us through the words, emotions and images.....had to read it a few times as the lines moved beautifully and I loved the images they conjured. Wonderful!

  8. How I enjoyed immersing myself in this poem. Your longing revealed in a mystic mix of urban and country environment.

  9. How amazing... the emotions flow strong through your seasons. As does the love...

  10. I love how descriptive this is. I feel like I'm there in the cold room, the front steps, the night cafe. Well done.

  11. What a lovely meeting of "she" and "I" - a teasing reflection. I am reminded of your poem about meeting oneself in a café years later... this poem is equally immersive, playful, and serious - only this time it's meeting a moment often overlooked. Also, that tea kettle shrill is one of my very favorite sounds. It always jolts me into the present. Beautiful, beautiful work!

  12. Hi Stacy, I know your plan was to visit everyone this week (as it was last week as well?). I hope you still at least will visit those of us from PU who took your words at face value both weeks and visited you. You are a good poet, but really we all appreciate visits just as you do.

    1. i am slowly and surely visiting. had a dentist appointment today and a busy day yesterday. i almost always visit. many weeks I visit over 30 blogs and get visits back from maybe half of those! usually if i can't visit everyone in one day, i do so in the span of the following week. thanks for checking in!

    2. last week, i don't think i committed to intentions were to visit those who visited me...if i forgot anyone, or forgot to visit, please accept my apology!

      the week when i did commit to visiting everyone, i did visit everyone except for the newbies, as they almost never visit back. 30 plus visits that week!

  13. Very nice hat you have started this prompt writing page, will try it too, really thanks!!

  14. Just a question how can i post the link (the pic) in my blog?

    1. you are very welcome. i'd love to have you join the weekly prompt!

      which pic do you mean? which link? i will try to help you!

  15. Hey Stacey--I am sorry I am repeating my comment as I am having a great deal of trouble posting from blogger after having had to reboot my browser! Agh! To your poem--Hey Stacey--This is a very interesting view into a mind and a meeting--many clever lines and an ending that is an epiphany for reader as well as voice. Thanks. K. (

  16. You've created a moody piece full of vivid imagery and longing ~ lovely memories. Could be the beginning of a short story.


Thank you for taking the time to comment, it is so appreciated. Your thoughts and critiques are always welcome! I will be by to visit your blog soon!