[Every Monday (until I run out of them), I’m posting a poem of mine that has fallen out from the submission process for some reason. In most cases, it will be one where I’ve received no response to my submission for at well over a year or more. Maybe the magazine I submitted them to has folded, the submission was lost in the post, or whatever. So, these poems can be seen as lost, orphans, of uncertain status, or something like that.]
These poems are also posted to ABCTales.
Ribbon
You wore a blue ribbon,
over white stockings
for your wedding day.
The land opened up in front of us,
spread out towards the horizon.
And you said, how the river
could be a ribbon too.
But rivers are not like ribbons.
Rivers arrange themselves in certain ways.
Ribbons fall and twist over themselves
heaping messily, falling slowly,
chaotically, to the floor.
Like that night when you took my hand,
leading me to your lonely room.
Our clothes fumbled and fell,
heaping where they dropped.
My shirt covering your stockinged feet
as you sat down on the edge of your bed
to unfasten my old leather belt.
You wore a blue ribbon,
over white stockings
for your wedding day.
Look now, over the valley below.
Could we be happy, there,
by the river surrounded by open green?
Far from the cities of our ruined lives.
Look at the village, down by the river,
enfolded inside the enclosing curves.
Where the floods of spring
will offer us the chance
to wash each other clean again.
Washing away all these memories.
You wore a blue ribbon,
over white stockings
for your wedding day.
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