ANEMONE
When curved fingers of loneliness,
Like orbs of sand, clutter cup of daylight,
Through rhythms of shadow let slip moon,
She pauses as if in enchanted flight,
Mesmerized by souls of soundless lethargy,
So many in mortal confinement, tug at bearded hopes
In her sauntering flight away from her sister sun,
Of the fiery gown, of satin swirls, shivering in vibrations,
So ridge of mountains flatten to rainbow ribbons;
Then she knows, sentence of days and driftwood,
Aging of ocean screams, adorned with chests and treasure
Sunken and mysterious, poised and luring,
And from above, without gleam of emerald,
Without tender heart of teabag steeping in kindness,
Anemone of ponder approaches dry barren desert,
To accompaniment of radio whispers, striated crumbles
Of sister sun shafts the grey blanket of contemplation
Now reply to the question of coincidence
when that tiny bird
shot its crap to window pane
where were you moon orb
ANEMONE © gillena cox 2017
Midweek motif
Seeking the Extraordinary in the Ordinary
Prompted by Sumana Ray
Revisit
14 June 2016
