Free verse № 153165
Blanket Weed
First, like my daughter's hair, waving with Ophelia's madness
As my hand twists, a fish in the cold bite of water
Fearing the net and the shrouded enigma
Of the wild banshee weed that chokes the pond;
Then, like a green fleece, oozing and dripping
And slip-slapping as I haul it from water to sun,
Ready to be spun once the bright sighted droplets,
The memories of home, have been dried and undone;
Then hung on the wall like a dead shrivelled newt,
Ready for the compost, a coiled desire
For the water, for the silver scrape of the fish
Pushing through, for the whispered thoughts of the current.
5 comments
Comma after water.
The green fleece image for a fish stuffed and mounted on the wall works well, but the complex way you develop it will leave some readers wondering what you mean.
OK. So is it not clear? I thought that the hair image was plainly referring to the weed - a fish doesn't move like that, and usually isn't green, or fleece-like. Is the hand not clearly enough the fish? I also thought the title made it clear what the subject is. If it isn't plain, the whole thing is, so to speak, blown out of the water. Oh damn it.
Frost's sonnet "A Soldier" should be required reading by law.
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