October thoughts from the Oracle

Must we whisper? Has sleep grown hostile?
The roses were plucked by the storm in the night,
their petals are sinking in the mud,
a rank smell hangs in the damp air.

The dream memory aches, you and I together,
in our place, wrapped in ourness,
lying on sweet meadow stalks beneath a blue sky.

To shine with the sleek shimmer of feathers,
the unconscious beauty of the smallest bird,
to sing with such a voice—we try,
leaving symphonies in our wake.

We watch helplessly as the sun sinks
and search for the pigments to retain its splendour,
wear diamonds because we cannot reproduce a dewy field.

I would live honey-drunk, full as a spring lake,
sail petals like boats on its unruffled surface,
and have you always, a presence,
warmer, larger than life itself, within reach of my hand.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

14 thoughts on “October thoughts from the Oracle”

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