She sees the candlelight again, a sun
through crystal rubied summer-dawn.
Her wishes turned to grey, and as she wakes,
on news from yesterday, on ink and stone, she’s blond.
She urges her clock to measure seconds,
heartbeats of those crumpled bills, precise amount;
but yet his door is locked; her sigh is sour.
In a summer lacking warmth at dawn.
Her lover sleeps, still rests on shelves unsold.
His lips are young and waits unbroken, sips
untouched just like a wait for death; a marriage woe
to never part, to faithfulness. Their oath once sealed
in stupored bile and recklessness, is now a chore
of waiting for a headstone by the liquor store.
She sighs and waits again for warmth
that only youthful arms like his can bring.
Today at toads, Grace introduces us to the poetry of Judith Wright at toads, and we should write something inspired by her poem. Her poem Metho Drinker really talked to me and I decided to write something inspired from that poem. The love-affair between alcohol and human know not of gender, and I decided to change the perspective. To be linked to Poetry Pantry as well.