Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Gargoyle Egg

A windless storm. There is no open sky
above my head; just heavy opal swirl
and feathers drifting back and forth, as I
become a pigeon trapped inside a pearl,
an embryo in egg. I’m not the girl
I used to be, but then who is? The times
unravel us, set knit adrift from purl.
The goblin shadows haunting Dickens’ Chimes
remind us of our little, heedless crimes
omission and commission. Let me be
a gargoyle spouting rain instead of rhymes
unburdened of all human memory.
I’ll hatch on some cathedral roof, alone
and free. My egg is glass. My wings are stone.

7 comments:

Gattina said...

Very special interpretation of the word !

Nancy Lindquist-Liedel said...

I love the poem and the energy it holds. Thank you.

The Flying Monkeys said...

Why did the egg go to school?

To get "egg-ucated".

HAHAHAHA

Have a great Monday! Love your egg post! Come check out my poached post!

Sandee (Comedy +) said...

Very well done. I so love your poetry each week. Have a great MM. :)

Villager said...

Happy MM! Great poem...

As usual, my response this week to the MM meme takes Mo's word to a different place that is unique to the African American culture.

peace, Villager

Alice - I Was Born2Cree8 said...

That is a wonderful poem. Thank you. Happy Manic Easter Monday.
Namaste.

Mo said...

"spouting rain instead of rhymes"
what a great phrase!
I think this is one of my favorite of your poems posted here!
Thanks for participating in Manic Mondays!
Cheers,
~manic mo