One of the things I love about writing poetry to prompts is I never know where the images or suggested words will take me. In this case – with Magpie Tales weekly prompt – it is nearly always an image either a painting or a photograph – and this week it was as if I cut a hole in my belly and let the stuff that had been sitting there, waiting, to pour forth.
Perhaps a bit “rough drafty” feeling to me – I offer you today’s (as of now untitled and raw, off my pencil) poem.
Oh - and please visit the Magpie Tales blog to check out other's interpretations of the same image. It always surprises me to see the directions we go... almost always completely different.
Overexposed and wan, smeared with butter
Shadows have snatched the scorched leaves
And stolen their voices whatever is old is new again
So the wrinkled cliché says
Pallid, ashy, frail lyrics while
The space underneath her ear
aches, the space where the
last bit of skin was stretched
to cover the skin not so
magically evaporated with
“We got it all,” they said
A pregnancy of time gone by
Leaving behind only
Trailing ribbons of ecru ache
Tied up behind her ear
The cries of the stillborn baby
Still ringing from her wombPlease stay in touch: Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot
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© 2013 Julie Jordan Scott