Tuesday, July 12, 2022

Late for breakfast

 


“Never love a wild thing…If you let yourself love a wild thing. You’ll end up looking at the sky.” ― Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Three Stories


she's artless

allowing the sun to smear 

her skin of dew and blue wildflowers


her shoulders are a soft bed to lean

your weary head to

her hands are tender tendrils

but once she holds on to a rock or tree

they are resilient, strong as rope


during autumn her face is a work of art

fading & wrinkled lines, silver threads,

orange-brown speckles, the golden hours

of conversations are short but meaningful


we say our goodbyes with warmth of steeped tea - 

cozy, not clinging so tight, but letting

go easily as breeze, carefree as blue sky





Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:   Breakfast at Tiffany's, hosted by Linda Lee Lyberg.  I chose this quote as an inspiration and epigram for my poem.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

11 comments:

  1. This is positively gorgeous Grace! I chose the same line. Great minds- lol.

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  2. This is absolutely breathtaking work done, Grace! I especially admire; "her hands are tender tendrils but once she holds on to a rock or tree they are resilient."❤️❤️

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  3. I loved this, took to it metaphorically as in saying goodbye to the season. Very sweet.

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  4. Lovely, lovely ending, but in fact I was able to associate much of my experience recently to your lines. It brought back some people I have met, still wise, and calm under pressure.

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  5. Outstanding piece!

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  6. during autumn her face is a work of art
    fading & wrinkled lines, silver threads,
    orange-brown speckles, the golden hour
    of conversations are short but meaningful

    Love this stanza, Grace! Beautiful description. Can be liken to life's journey exhausted and spent in the end where relationships are restricted (description - conversations are short) Always like your style Ma'am!

    Hank



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  7. Grace, this is so beautiful! Especially love the stanza about autumn. Stellar writing.

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  8. Warmth even in the passing of time and goodbyes too, a gentle, open and loving poem Grace. Fills the heart.

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