Scarlet Afternoon Poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Scarlet Afternoon
A sewing room ablaze with sunlight -
a woman sits, bent over knotted seams,
her auburn hair aglow.
She muses on fond dreams
of a happy marriage
as she sews bright red roses -
'Oh, what joy to be a loving wife! '
The needle pierces her finger -
memories intrude
as red droplets blossom
and stain the delicate fabric.
Mortal sin marks the spot -
the sewing room darkens!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 3:07:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Michael: I like this poem a lot. I like the image of the sewing, the marriage, the fabric, the needle, the blood. Mortal sin marks the spot, but the darkness of the sewing room brightens with God's love and forgiveness for sin, period. Our motality has been swallowed-up by immortality. Michael, I am not preaching. Thank you for your thought provoking poem. Richard