Treasure Island

elysabeth faslund

(11/23/49 / Thibodaux. Louisiana)

............................Celtic Mother


What comments on 'Celtic Mother, Winter's Crone' poem?
In the time of dead leaves,
when wide-eyed things
frowned at sound,
and snow fell through fog,
a red berry circlet
crowned her hair.

When hunger stilled infants
and frost shrouded ancients,
wrinkled laughter dappled
forests, glades, fens.
Her talons clawed
life through death,
veil through veil.

Mother. Hag. Virgin whore.
Giver, taker, wise before
gods' birth.

In the time of black robes,
when men killed
for one mouth of meat,
she walked naked
on frozen fields,
and the earth
shuddered
its young
upwards.

Mother. Midwife. Woman.
She was breathtaking.

Submitted: Sunday, December 20, 2009

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Comments about this poem (............................Celtic Mother by elysabeth faslund )

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  • Romeo Della Valle (12/20/2009 10:51:00 AM)

    A masterpiece, excellent, well penned, you got my vote,10+++(forgive me if you don't see the vote, I have been having problems with my page when it comes to vote, I don't why) keep the good work, and if you have a chance, please, read 'HOLY WOMAN' dedicated to beloved mother.. (Report) Reply

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