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‘Look - in the yew tree!’

Still in bed,
and wanting only
swift return
of milk-warm limbs
with milk-hot cup of tea,
you squint at me.

While through the dazzled, ice-crumbed pane
a candy apple crimson head
cocks shining, trustless eye-pips
right and left.

‘In the yew tree - quick, he’ll fly’

And so you rise,
to stand and stare
by the glass, by me,
dressed in your shorts
and your tolerant bemusement.

‘I saw... a something fly?’ you offer.
And so did I.
Among the bony avaricious hands
of winter trees
Red something, taking flight.

I saw, I see.

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The following comments are for "The Cardinal"
by MobiusSoul

cardinal rules...
Thanks, Lucie, it's nice to be back and be read (though I've written pathetically little recently).
How true: spotting only the female probably wouldn't have provoked a poem at all... what suckers we are for bright resounding images and obvious symbolism! Nevertheless, he and/or his wife are a rare enough sight at my urban window to make me feel obscurely honoured and pluck me briefly from the greydom of January blues...

( Posted by: mobiussoul [Member] On: January 22, 2007 )

The Cardinal
love those "bony avaricious hands/ of winter trees", seen a lot and had enough of those lately. Nicely captured uplifting, though fleeting, moment here. Coveys well the sense of privilege we feel on those rare moments we're allowed to see something bright and beautiful in our dull grey early mornings.

That "I see" is affirming too. It promises the moment may come again, that the senses and spirit haven't been dulled entirely by winter and by reality, and there's comfort in that.

Glad to see you back

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: January 23, 2007 )

Sweet, saucy little piece
The red does make us jump, doesn't it?

This is a little gem. Wonderful little rhymes falling throughout. Great, dancing meter, too. About the only line that doesn't strike me as perfectly on point is:

"and your tolerant bemusement."

Kinda too long or lumpy or something. Other than that, though... Totally sweet.

You love the red outside. Against the milk-white snow... It's there to catch your attention. To make you look. To make the girls look...

We men don't like to get out of bed and look at the other pretty, flashy males.

Nicely done.

Write more.

( Posted by: andyhavens [Member] On: March 18, 2007 )

Thanks, Andy
Cool to get a review on a months-old posting, esp. a good one! Your comments make these few trivial lines sound saucier than I'd intended, I think... I wrote in a sort of wistful mode, but somehow gender politics snuck in... :)

That 'tolerant bemusement' line is indeed unwieldy in this context - sometimes I like the chuntering rhythm, perhaps because it conveys a slow, reluctant unfolding-of-legs-from-sheets; sometimes not. I wonder if there's a more succinct way to put it?

And yes, I have been lit-delinquent lately. Head hung in shame. (A very full-time job, a somewhat part-time life, various visual rather than literary art projects and a very indolent lack of inspiration!) This was the first thing I'd written in months that I even slightly liked. But I'll dig something out to post now: you've given muse and conscience the requisite hefty nudge...

( Posted by: MobiusSoul [Member] On: March 20, 2007 )

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