Sunday, September 18, 2011

Spin and Weave

Spin and Weave

Wool spins over fingertips
bloody raw from guiding it
sheep graze out my window
strengthen in opal meadow
I yearn for my muse or an omen 
in this narrow corridor of a life
just sheep and thread as I thrust
the shuttle back and forth
once with verve I am now tired
old when I look in the mirror

8 comments:

  1. Excellent, Willow. Sometimes it definitely IS tiring!

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  2. It sounds so tired. Your poem is so strong in that. The wool makes you so tired, your fingers raw, yet the sheep are right there making more wool. Never-ending and so tired. What a wonderful poem, Willow.

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  3. Strong with the monotony and pain of repetitive tasks...that said, there is still something appealing about the piece. Maybe it's the pastoral scene out the window..

    Excellent piece, Willow.

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  4. Excellent again! I can feel the sense of this poem as well as read its words. You are so good!

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  5. I'm sad for the weariness, Willow, but you always do a superb job of weaving and spinning your words. This is a compelling piece.

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  6. your 'opal meadow' caught my eye and ear

    there is a song by The Fureys (I think) called Weave and Spin which prrovides my mind's accompaniment to your lines

    xx

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  7. The spin and weave of repeated daily tasks can definitely age us; sometimes a walk in the world outside the window is needed to rejuvenate. Excellent sense of place in this poem, Willow.

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