*

*
Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

The Fringe of Grey



I could cast myself in white
Pure and innocent
and he the man in black
who led me astray
But we both know
We live on the fringe of grey.

I could say I wore baby’s breath in my hair
that he tempted me
with the scent of a red rose
But we both know
The grass was green and damp
and the columbines were in bloom.

I could remember the white of the paper gown
0r the black typeface of the consent form
(the first I had ever signed myself)
(Do you remember being seventeen?)
But I remember most
the blood stain,
my own scarlet “A,”
and the grey brick building
protesters with black and white signs,
yelling about life
and death
(Perhaps you were one of them?)

I could claim that I cast rue and marigold
upon the earth
Rend my clothing in grief
I could swear that I simply forget
Let the day pass each year
without my heart skipping a beat
But we both know
The truth is grey
and it cuts, not cleanly, but with a dull knife
So sometimes I still wonder
What If?
And most times I’m glad
but sometimes I cry.


14 comments:

Bryan M. White said...

Incredible! Love the imagery. Powerful theme too.

Mary said...

I do think eventually we have to come to terms with the greys of our lives somehow. I think with time it becomes easier....as we realize that, not only for ourselves but also for others, the truth IS grey.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh it's those "what if's" that bring the memories and the pain.....this is wonderfully written. From the heart.

Brian Miller said...

dang...intense emotions in this one...smiles we can blame or clain innocence but....love that stanza with the babies breath....really a wonderful piece...

Margaret said...

This is amazing as it is very affective in its honesty. Hugs.

nene said...

Wonderfully depicted in that subtle breath of truth. Quite relatable t many within the eye and ear shot.

Oh yes, the 'grey'.

Kerry O'Connor said...

These last lines were heart-breaking:

But the truth is grey
and it cuts, not cleanly, but with a dull knife
So sometimes I still wonder
What If?
And most times I’m glad
but sometimes I cry.

I like your appeal to the audience for empathy, and the question which asks if we were of those who would protest something, while never having been in the position to make the difficult decision. I think this is an important poem, all prompting aside.

Rachel Hoyt said...

Amazing! Very powerful words. :)

Ella said...

This was beautiful and haunting!
I love how you ended it, even through the imagery that was stunning you revealed the truth!
I love this poem~

Helen said...

How could poetry this raw, this
gut-wrenching be so incredibly beautiful? Amazing, truly.

darev2005 said...

Wow. You wield words like a surgeon. Just to complete the analogy.

Old Ollie said...

Authentic and honest - solid piece.

Helena said...

Simply stunning. A depth that considers the whole complexity of a grey situation.

myheartslovesongs.com said...

very powerful! i think most of our lives are lived in the grey areas, don't you? this is an amazing write!