Saturday, December 20, 2008


she floats unbound
her sails hang sad and limp
with no one at the helm.
she’s going nowhere.
lost and lacking wind
with no hard hand to
force her home
or steer her into harbors
strange and wild
she lies becalmed.
if ships dared dream
she’d conjure a familiar form,
a vessel drawing close,
a chain thrown round her
willing prow, a will now
sacrificed with joy to
he who claimed control.
she does not dream.
she merely stays
silently stranded
and waits for spring.


Greenwoman said...

Lovely job. Has wonderful pace to it. *grins* Even if you aren't churning them out, what you are turning out is very good. *winks*

mamacrow said...

loved this. loved loved loved the metaphor. you paint a beautiful word picture too. lovely.

Louise said...

From now on days will lengthen and spring will surely return!

Paul said...

OG, such beautiful imagery, the sun must shine in your heart.
Have you lite the first candle.
Warm hugs,

oatmeal girl said...

Thank you, Greenwoman. it was the fiend who made me so aware of pace and rhythm. I pay so much more attention now, and I edit more. One nice thing about word processing is that it's so easy to play with line breaks!

mamacrow - your enthusiasm just blows me away. Love love love it :-) Thank you.

Louise - I have to check the chart, but in fact maybe we are ahead by a minute. At least it stays light a little later. The issue is the sun... The sun seems to have SAD and doesn't want to come out and play...

Paul - Happy Chanukah! Tonight 3 candles (plus the shammes) are in my window, just about burned down. And another one tomorrow. And yet one more after that. The increase of pleasure and the increase of light.