Her perfume announces
her passage where eyes
don’t trust visions, and fear
twists imagination into a demon’s blink.
She was dance, April’s first bloom,
youth’s passion for invincible.
October came with skeletons,
and she carried their bones
until the beast’s breastbone
became the final cut.
She is now a ballet of narrow dreams,
the last chance haunting those
stuck in wandering spaces where timid
prefers the vinegar of same to wine
bubbling with temptation to change.
"She is now a ballet of narrow dreams" what an absolutely gorgeous line Susie! That first stanza knocked my socks off and the whole poem is alive with images that linger like a strong perfume. A stunning and evocative poem Susie! I love it!
ReplyDeleteI was about to quote the same line quoted by Carrie. There is so much power in those words, so much knowing. The imagery in this one is just delicious. And I love the Phantom of the Opera feel of the piece.
ReplyDeleteNice! My favorite line is "...fear twists imagination into a demon’s blink."
ReplyDeleteMy bedroom in our last house had been the room of the previous owner's mother, long since deceased. During the 8 years we lived there, I would note on occasion the pleasant fragrance of delicate perfume when there was absolutely no source apparent. I came to welcome her presence. Your title reminded me of that.
ReplyDeleteOooh. She is hauning me.
ReplyDeleteWe often wish that such visions would appear to us confirming that there is a life after...after all.
ReplyDeleteI love the darkness of ‘…fear / twists imagination into a demon’s blink’ and the October skeletons who bones she carried ‘until the beast’s breastbone / became the final cut’.
ReplyDeleteAh, poor sad ghost!
ReplyDeleteI of course applaud those who would gulp the bubbly.
Such poetic perfection in the month of ghosts, demons and pure scariness. Never one to announce my presence ... I spritz, carefully.
ReplyDeleteThe imagery here is so ethereal. I really like the cautionary feel to this, a literal haunting by the ghost of opportunities never taken.
ReplyDeletein our south-east asian culture, if we smell the scent of perfume but see no one around in the dark, be ready to feel afraid. :)
ReplyDeleteyour haunting poem reminds me of that.