Friday, July 18, 2008

Old Lavender

The smell of lavender remains
and won’t dissolve in water that’s
condensing on the windowpane.

The echo of a midnight train
at noon, runs round an empty flat
that smells of lavender, remains

unoccupied except by stains
of age, infirmity and cats.
Condensing on the windowpane,

a drop of liquid falls like rain,
a damp spot on a vintage hat
that smells of lavender. Remains

have been disposed of, proper pains
were taken, all the forms were pat.
Condensing on the windowpane

a figure sketched in moisture gains
a solid shadow, dark and matte.
The smell of lavender remains,
condensing on the windowpane.


Collection available! Knocking from Inside

7 comments:

Greyscale Territory said...

How I love the echo of lavender. It is a mystical scent which seems to invoke old worlds.

latree said...

the smell, does it comfort you?

Linda Jacobs said...

Oh, this is so well crafted! Your repetitions are fresh each time and take on new meanings.

I used a lavender body wash this morning so am experiencing this more than just visually!

Granny Smith said...

Wonderful use of this poetic form. The scent of lavender is one of the few scents that I can imagine into being, and the scent got stronger with each repetition.

I look for your entry to Sunday Scribblings every week, knowing that I will be dazzled by your skill.

danni said...

smell is the most evocative sense that ties us to a memory - and lavender so distinctive - beautifully done!!!

Beth said...

What a lovely villanelle that turns and twists its form and images into new meanings with each stanza. I was prepared for the "remains" and death (because of the prompt), but the poem ends so satisfactorily. Beautiful work.

karen crone said...

A lovely haunting!