There is a room in a house somewhere/
i once lived apple-red velvet and
cherry wood floors and a window
looking out onto mountains which change
with the moon
I remember a cobalt-blue tablecloth
on the table, a dish of fruit
ice-clear tears
somewhere
someone
is playing a violin
but my spirit seems to be throwing itself against the white walls
and hurling itself into the clouds
weeping
with the trees
in the garden
(there is no peace in the melody)
i think
the woman in me
has been
like the redness of that room so far & near
drawing water from a silent well
arranging purple flowers in an old vase
smiling with the sun and the spiralling
Spring blossoms in the garden
maybe
this is not in the past
(so tense)
but is still to come
there has been a lapse somewhere
and i am not this frustrated child
but a princess
in a
green glass tower
Wow Anna! Inspiring and so eloquent!
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Thanks so much! Are you by any chance Davin my friend from Grahamstown, all those years ago?
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