Lady in Red

by Mr. Darcy   Aug 17, 2015


Through a lashed curtain
I visualised two doors.
For a heartbeat
They appeared frozen.

Suddenly, with a waft,
They explode,
Open.

A barrage of hurried,
Eager people erupt,
Like a coiled queue
On the first day
Of the Harrod's Sale.

The crowd washes
Past my rested form,
Like watching the tide's
Pre-determined path.

That is when I saw her...

The Lady in Red.
Her face;
So, familiar to me.

Like a reflection,
But different:
Out of time,
Technicoloured.

Within the commotion
She looked at me,
Moving in surreal
slow motion.

We both smiled...

...And I choked -
Choked on:
Shared recognition.

Within that instant...

Birth, Blood, Tears,
Love, Hate, Fears,
Joy, Touch, Bliss,
Death, Life, Kiss.
Shared the
Head
Of
a
.

^
Pin.

As we smiled
I became aware,
Of who and where I was.

The train in my chest
Tore away my happiness,
Reminding me of my grief
And raging river of pain.

Slowly I opened my eyes -
And wept,
For my mother
who had died
just last week.

As I lay there
propped up on pillows
I knew that,

Together we had smiled,
and shared our final:

Goodbye.

M. Moran
17.8.15

*Authors note: This was based on an event that was recounted to me. A daughter of a tenant told me of the vision she had moments before she awoke that morning. Her mother had passed away last week and the vision was of her mother in the 1980's, a younger lady in her 40's, fit and well and eager to move towards (she presumed) the pearly gates.

Rest in Peace, Joan

3


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Latest Comments

  • 8 years ago

    by Cindy

    Michael such a beautiful piece of poetry. I hope when the time comes I will see my mom before the demesia takes all her memories away.
    Excellent job!
    Take care
    Cindy
    *big hugs

  • 8 years ago

    by Jamparnell

    Really remarkable work.

  • 8 years ago

    by Dagmar Wilson

    This is true art.

  • 8 years ago

    by Larry Chamberlin

    The careful explosion of activity in the opening stanza is masterfully contrasted with the Lady's mesmerizing slow movements. Setting it in a Harrods Sale is a perfect choice to predispose the reader to the madness you portray - customers lined up the night before, tempers frayed, competition over goods.
    The head of a pin: nice way to gather the emotions of a lifetime into an incalculably dense instant.
    The train in the chest threw me at first, but after reading the rest of the stanza it came clear as a driving force (in this case of grief) which tore her from the reverie.
    Even without the explanation this poem is poignant and clear in its meaning.
    Well deserved win, Michael.

  • 8 years ago

    by Ingrid

    Congrats, dear Michael. I am glad I nominated this, because it now has won!

    (((hugs)))