Blue

Blue floats and hovers
it never comes to rest
its scent is distant bonfires
its touch moth-breath

Blue is man-child
with spiritual eyes
a stranger in a room
who isn't one
soft down on upper lip
felt without touch

it is dreaming at night
of what is not and cannot be
it is gauze-vision
half-reality

it is a shaky signature
on a typewritten page
seen through mist

Blue is pain that is borne alone

it is quena music
bone-notes quavering over absent flesh
in death worship

yawns are for want of blue
and partially for having it

Blue is pigeons
and siamese cats
and snow shadows
it is for ever
stretching

it is ten billion spindles
weaving blue fabric endlessly

it is the certain
uncertainty

(Nov.2004)
(Senneville, Québec)

by Philippa Lane

Other poems of LANE (45)

Comments (19)

Good write, well put together
nice poem - the Blue the azure - it is the certain uncertainty lovely thanks
nice poem...I like the way it starts...Blue floats and hovers/it never comes to rest (meaning blue of sky and ocean, which is constantly moving and never at rest) ...
Better than either of the two classic poems selected for this day. KAPOW!
Exceptional metaphoric play throughout, young lady, indeed a well crafted and polished composition... ~FjR~
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