Frightened by the storm
he crawls under
his mother’s skirts
all taffeta & tulle
clinging to her
ankles
before falling
asleep
upon her feet.
She continues playing
her cards right
winning all before her
as the candles
gutter
and almost
go out.
She remembers her body
wrapped about him
her flesh
protecting his innocence
as now her dress
encloses his sleeping
unconsciously stroking
his hair
with her
left foot
his dreams now
pooled at her feet.
What a touching bit this is, especially that left foot, minus shoe of course, stroking, stroking that small, scared child. AND never missing a card trick! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh this is lovely, reminds me of a poem (and I can't remember the title or the author) about a poet remembering sitting at his mum's feet by the piano when he was small. Whichever it has a haunting quality to it! HG: -) xx