for Frank
Rock tumbling
in a pot
polishing lentils.
A tiny pebble in my shoe,
a piercing spine
reminding me I walk,
feel feet,
move fingers.
Paddling hedgehogs in gutters,
paws are curled flippers, like your hands
after your tumble,
not even a whole tumble,
the vehicle arrested half way,
on your head half the night in the desert,
sensation seeping from your spine,
until only your head was left - man in the moon -
you said it in intensive care.
In my next life,
you'll be covered in more spines than you can use,
and a small mountain
of dry lentils.
nice idea of hedgehogs (this was England?) and being upside down
ReplyDeletefascinating. I wasn't sure who "I" was in the poem at any given moment
ReplyDeleteHmm, it is somewhat dense, eh. The rock, the pebble in my shoe, the piercing spine, and paddling hedgehog are all Frank, (not I, as they say ;) ) Thanks for commenting on that, Michele.
Deletecentral part of this poem particularly strong I think Efi x
ReplyDeleteSo great, Efi, I read it 5 times. The bad accidents I have known. Now I feel a bit like a hedgehog myself.
ReplyDelete