Early
By
Phil Miller
There may be a time when she wants to
Open the door to solitude
And close it quietly behind her
So that only she can hear her heart
beating.
She will want to feel the comfort of a
hug
From a familiar armchair as she wriggles
Childlike into its well-worn woollen
Structure, like slipping into the arms of
her
Fathers oversized cardigan.
And facing the frosty wall of glass that
knows the January storm will keep its
Promise, she will want to be still.
And there she will wait with saint-like
Patience, listening intently for the
Euphonious calls of her beloved birds,
Whose flights she will never see.
Copyright Phil Miller.
Love the mystery in this poem. Who is 'she' I wonder and why will she never see birdflight? Very atmospheric.
ReplyDeleteYes, very intriguing. I thought about "She" a cat perhaps, the take themselves off to die. Would fit in with the bird thing don't know about father's over-sized cardigan though. Perhaps we will get the answer?
ReplyDeleteWell constructed Phil, I like it
The girl is blind. Maybe a few clues could have been added?
ReplyDeleteShelley.
Spoilsport! The world was our oyster, anything was possible... Now I still can't see it but, It's a great poem, full of magic. Well conceived, well written and infinitely re-readable.
Delete