Sunday, September 7, 2008


i wonder that the sky rolls
cleft the darkening earth,
beyond my babbling prayers,
smoothly over my keening
like river over rock.
we are small matters, we are infinitely
the finite winged, flown
-- now impossibly vast
in closure of the warm mouth of daylight
against the naked body of eve.
the tidal earth is turned, and i am--
i am flight, my feet wrapped in bandage.
the murmur of my veins shushes stars,
i wonder what you are.
the sun presses his warm head against
my white shoulder
like a sleepy child.
against my agony he reclines easily,
i burn through evening-tide--
his glorious features aloft.
i will carry him this way if he like:
this is what mother's do
--though our arms may be full of fire.

Maggie M. Ethridge

Talia said...

Great poem.

Let me know how you like Crime and Punishment...I've never read it.

Arn't you on Goodreads?

Maggie May said...

yes i am! i'll find you.

Happyflower said...

Wow, this is so powerful feeling to me, so I don't know really what to say other than I like it and I must read it again!

You use punctuation in a way I think I have forgotten since high school, or maybe never really knew other than those mindless worksheets we had to do. But your poem made me see the value of knowing this stuff in writing, the effect are very moving, and actually makes sense to me.
(now it is time to look at my grammar again! )

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