Spin and Weave
bloody raw from guiding it
sheep graze out my window
strengthen in opal meadow
I yearn for my muse or an omen
in this narrow corridor of a life
just sheep and thread as I thrust
the shuttle back and forth
once with verve I am now tired
old when I look in the mirror
Excellent, Willow. Sometimes it definitely IS tiring!
ReplyDeleteIt sounds so tired. Your poem is so strong in that. The wool makes you so tired, your fingers raw, yet the sheep are right there making more wool. Never-ending and so tired. What a wonderful poem, Willow.
ReplyDeleteintensity and focus
ReplyDeleteStrong with the monotony and pain of repetitive tasks...that said, there is still something appealing about the piece. Maybe it's the pastoral scene out the window..
ReplyDeleteExcellent piece, Willow.
Excellent again! I can feel the sense of this poem as well as read its words. You are so good!
ReplyDeleteI'm sad for the weariness, Willow, but you always do a superb job of weaving and spinning your words. This is a compelling piece.
ReplyDeleteyour 'opal meadow' caught my eye and ear
ReplyDeletethere is a song by The Fureys (I think) called Weave and Spin which prrovides my mind's accompaniment to your lines
xx
The spin and weave of repeated daily tasks can definitely age us; sometimes a walk in the world outside the window is needed to rejuvenate. Excellent sense of place in this poem, Willow.
ReplyDelete