She stands in silver

The rain washes prayers
from her shivering, lilac lips
as the dirt muds up around her feet.

The ink from his letter swims
like watery ribbon from the page
to her trembling hands to the ground
like the moons' silver heartbeats.

Her lungs swell with a drowned scream:
    S'il vous plait, mon amour!

She stands among black-eyed susans, dress
clinging like an extra layer of pale skin

and the moon sharpens the rain silver;
the lunar beads burn her heart lily-white.

Author's Note

Again, I'm rusty... poem prompt from Jack... and Spencer

Reviews

[SteveB]

Very nice. Vivid images and a wonderful economy of language. Not a single word more than is necessary to create the mood, a mood which can be read in many ways. Is it a love letter, a letter of farewell, or perhaps a letter from a dead lover? The potential ambiguity, highlighted by the "drowned scream", adds to the overall effect. Thank you for sharing this.

[eglantine]

merci! :)

[Infinite hexes]

I love it how you put something French in most of you poems. Anyways you did a great job with this :)

[eglantine]

Haha yea, I love the French language. Thank you!

[asdarkeyesclose]

'The ink from his letter swims
like watery ribbon from the page'

i liked that line and the last stanza, the images growing out of the poetry with a lot of originality. fantastic.

[eglantine]

Thank you!

[Verser]

I once wrote a poem that had the line, "Rust is gold for those who care to see it," and that applies to the author of this poem. Rusty, indeed.

You have written this before, and I wonder if we might not nickname you "Rusty," from now on...

I see this poem falling in nicely with many others you have written, choosing moon and moonlight imagery. And like those other poems you always use it to great effect. But this time there is a difference.

In this poem, in my view, we have a little melodrama going, centered around a sort of tragic woman who has been jilted. We, and the moon share her anguish, although the moon here is no soothing influence. In fact the opposite. In spite of the lovely imagery, we are left with that last line which seems kind of malevolent, even savage. It is as though what might have been romantic and beautiful in her life (as it is for so many of us), has turned against her too--a victim not only of a lover's fickleness, but even of the firmament.

A fun poem with delightful, double edged imagery.

If I am all wrong about this, that's poetry...

[eglantine]

thanks Verser, as always :)

[patti]

Is another amazing poem, you have gift with words that you never fail to show your talent... Good work!

[Leslie Philibert]

Another great poem. Eglantine is a very talented poetess. Like the form, the use of language, the French quote. Excellent.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

You think you are rusty... that was amazing.

[Lina Grey]

elegant, elgantine :) always love the French and you paint a lovely image with such strong emotion. well done

[.]

Beautiful work,Elga. Your descriptive language really paints a vibrant image for me. Great job --as usual :) And don't worry, I've been feeling a little rusty too lately.

-Cord

[keyvan]

nice....

[h d e rushin]

Your not rusty, we are.

I love this title. Silver makes me think of the 1980's where my mother would
remove her silver from the china closet with great delicacy for the undelicate
task of polishing it. I don't know why, but I thought of this image when I read
your last stanza. An old moon sharpening, polishing the rain to glorify it's
supreme worth.

Nice. dana