Wednesday, March 3, 2010

The Pillars of the Earth


The sun, edging over
normal monastic life,

hinges chissled out.
The sky growing preciously 

bright in the east
like gilded scenes

embroiderd by the hands
of a once pious woman.

The prior's bed is wide and stiff.

9 comments:

human being said...

.

pillars are bipolar
this is a fact singular

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the imagery is so original... you cannot read it without feeling yourself part of the world... especially loved the part about hands...
so feminine!

namaste!


and thanks a lot my new friend, Megan for that precious window you left on my site... opening into a new sky...
:)

Jenny said...

Beautiful lines, Megan. This poem has an unfolding quality. The sun is much longed-for right now.

Megan Duffy said...

human being, thank you so much. I am so happy to have you here and on FOS. Your work has such a beautifully alliterative quality.

And the Crow is the emperor of birds in my book.

The Scrybe said...

Hey there, I loved this poem, and agree with human being; it cannot be read without feeling part of it's world :)

Jennifer Walkup said...

Lovely.

Megan Duffy said...

Jenny: I'm so glad you sense the unfolding. I imagine he sun rising over a priory to be slow and careful. I don't know why.

Scrybe: Thank you. I wanted to paint a stark but sun-lit atmosphere.

Jenn: Thank you, as always.

gerry boyd said...

Spotless!

Megan Duffy said...

Thank you, Gerry. Means a lot.

human being said...

thanks Megan... again...
your book?
have you written... are you writing... a book?
name please!
crows are so snoopy, you know that!
:D