Friday, 25 April 2014




      
A NIGHT SONG
(APRIL-25)  
                                          
Lisa Gordon Photography

 
I love nights
When it smells jasmine
And moths fly
I love moths
When they rush to taste light
I love dreadlocks
They are my banyans
Under which
I lay my head and sleep
In the day
From the arched door
A face emerges
She comes and tells me
“I am your mother”
I don’t know her
But her eyes are tearful
And what’s a mother anyway?

Posted for Artistic Interpretations with Margaret – Willard Asylum @ Real Toads
                                     

14 comments:

  1. Sad to think that a child might not know the answer to that question...

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  2. Oh my goodness, you have so totally nailed this prompt! This is just perfect. The tearful mother, the blank, unknowing stare.........brilliant!

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  3. I wondered where you were going with this, but in the end it made perfect, and I mean perfect, sense! This is brilliant!

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  4. This is perfectly unnerving in it's sadness. Wonderfully written.

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  5. Very very understated and cool. ouch.

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  6. Heartbreaking a child wouldn't know the meaning of mother...powerful

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  7. A child needs love to grow and flourish

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  8. The last line is just perfect. Captures the mood, the despair, the hopelessness.

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  9. Wonderful opening especially--the moths, the dreadlocks like banyons I found especially evocative. Thanks. k.

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  10. The immediate senses seem to work fine, but oh, what a heartbreak of an ending!

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