Another one

[radegund]

A while ago, I posted a poem. Nobody remarked on this except for the ever-faithful niallm, but I've decided to go ahead and post another one anyway. Comments invited!

Home Birth
"I need a man," she said, and set to work,
tapping a childhood flair for arts and crafts -
she gathered scraps: a battered piano stool,
old clothes, the ruins of a basket chair,
even some pots and pans she thought would do;

spread them all out in her living-room
and worked for days, with tape, and string, and glue -
did clever things with coathangers, fleshed out
the figure with old ravelled socks, and cut,
from some magazines, a face to die for;

and now they’re dancing - yes, it’s worked - at last!
her wild eyes break her tears, her vivid smile
grimly denies the lurching, thumping weight
she wields - her clenched and brittle hum drowns out
the quick snap and creak of a wicker heart.

Comments

[radegund.livejournal.com]

Thanks back :-)

(And I do understand the "um, wow" thing...)

The "decently long story" aspect hadn't occurred to me at all - I'm a fiction writer really, so that figures, I suppose. As for the trip-up lines, I know. They need work - see my response to Niall above.