Echoed Wednesday
A Wednesday afternoon,
moody with promised rain.
Sullen feet scuff and drag
the uncertain concrete.
Phone, a slick-palm clutch
in my pocket. Gripped tight.
A modern-day talisman
or echoed mother’s rosary.
Gloom hangs me over hard,
presses too heavy, too large
on my shoulders. My spine
curves: I am vertical only
by half-chewed jelly snakes.
Fog settles, in a way I won’t.
The phone is smugly quiet.
My coat’s still soaking wet.
And here’s a wintry, foggy song – it doesn’t really mean anything connected to the poem, but I thought the slightly claustrophobic “foggy” atmosphere of the thing was appropriate…
“Kept Vertical only by half-chewed jelly snakes” I don’t quite understand it but I love the line.
If you think about having jelly legs and then apply that to the spine – like when you’re feeling very wobbly… Glad you liked!
Sometimes I think you know know me
Nice to hear it hits home for someone – though I promise I’m not stalking you… !
This is brilliant!
Thanks Deana!
Love the mood created here Holly.
And I just love the lines
A modern day talisman
or mother’s echoed rosary”
Christine
Thanks Christine – I’m pretty sure I’ve used the rosary thing before: it’s such a powerful image. And I’m not even Catholic!
“Gloom hangs me over hard,”
Your way with words continues to amaze and delight me.
I must admit I was somewhat pleased with that line myself – which is sometimes a sign that it’s too much, but I let it stay.