Ahhh...your smile
lights up this room
you, as ever
its centre
head thrown back
before the spill of laughter
like a buttercup
overburdened with rainwater
hair scattered
in all directions
the wind
adoring its fiery tresses
you, the beautiful
Medusa
& always
that pose
hand on hip
an ever-lit cigarette.
Some of us
still cry.
Others hold
back tears
like buttercups
overburdened with rainwater
& still you laugh
at our grief
locked into
the landscape
of your
photograph.
I do not know why this poem called to my mind a photography of Anne Sexton with an ever-lit cigarette...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Perhaps it was about her Onelia? Lovely imagery here Donall - enjoyed. HG: -) xx