2014, a midwinter’s morning.
Winter courts spring with a bridal gown.
Laid on earth’s bare skin, the perfection of each crystalline stitch, divine.
It is melting, under shallow pools of sun.
A gem would not melt in this meagre heat: but we are temporary, we should understand.
A diamond is a thing of beauty, yet the pursuit of it, too costly. Laden with servitude, it shines sadly.
In the embroidered earth a moment holds, a proposal, a sign of hope sturdier than the materials that spark it.
A memory: a memory arrives -
1977, an early summer’s afternoon.
There was then a smaller version of me; I can observe her, as though she exists, independent of her adult self.
She had brought her necklace to school, a trinket from her Grandma, it dangled a bright jewel, like something from the Raj. She liked to wear it on her head, in the style of a warrior princess. Light fell and caught the dust as she led the class to the cloakroom and all the parents said how sweet she was.
Pantaloons to them! Her teeth were sharp and she was terribly fierce!
She slid the diadem from her head, put it in her pocket.
Should she feel foolish?
No, she decided, this is who I am.
2014, a midwinter’s morning
Marching over marvellous crunch, observing delight; toes turning blue inside thin boots: it can only be a cheerful colour in this landscape.
And Dog finds it not too cold to swim.
Winter courts spring with a bridal gown.
Laid on earth’s bare skin, the perfection of each crystalline stitch, divine.
It is melting, under shallow pools of sun.
A gem would not melt in this meagre heat: but we are temporary, we should understand.
A diamond is a thing of beauty, yet the pursuit of it, too costly. Laden with servitude, it shines sadly.
In the embroidered earth a moment holds, a proposal, a sign of hope sturdier than the materials that spark it.
A memory: a memory arrives -
1977, an early summer’s afternoon.
There was then a smaller version of me; I can observe her, as though she exists, independent of her adult self.
She had brought her necklace to school, a trinket from her Grandma, it dangled a bright jewel, like something from the Raj. She liked to wear it on her head, in the style of a warrior princess. Light fell and caught the dust as she led the class to the cloakroom and all the parents said how sweet she was.
Pantaloons to them! Her teeth were sharp and she was terribly fierce!
She slid the diadem from her head, put it in her pocket.
Should she feel foolish?
No, she decided, this is who I am.
2014, a midwinter’s morning
Marching over marvellous crunch, observing delight; toes turning blue inside thin boots: it can only be a cheerful colour in this landscape.
And Dog finds it not too cold to swim.
Comments
Your dog is quite the trouper(smile).