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Bloodlines

3/10/2016

6 Comments

 

Picture
What reason?


Captured by their beauty
I stood
Wobbling on wooden fence rails
Arms stretching outward to
Balance a shiny red apple,
Open-palmed and
Fingers snuggled together.
 

Chomping down
They
Spew sticky sweetness that
Collects in cracks between my fingers,
Runs in clear thin veins
Toward my elbow.
 

My heart
Pumps my passion,
Filling me with
Love and wonder.
Passion forming
With my first breath.
 

Or perhaps…
Long ago
In white Russia
Where great grandparents
Trained
Majestic, noble beasts
For the Czar.




6 Comments
Dana Kramaroff link
3/10/2016 05:08:00 am

Oh Lynne,
Your words are just so beautiful. I love how you connect to the past with the last stanza. Thank you for sharing this with us!
-Dana

Reply
lynne dorfman link
3/10/2016 05:46:36 am

Thanks, Dana. This was a real discovery for me. I was in my forties.

Reply
Adrienne
3/10/2016 05:15:24 am

Beautiful. I had such clear picture in my head.

Reply
Clare link
3/10/2016 11:53:41 am

This is beautiful - I could vividly see every moment of your poem:
I stood
Wobbling on wooden fence rails
Arms stretching outward to
Balance a shiny red apple,
Open-palmed and
Fingers snuggled together.

Is my favorite!
Clare

Reply
Shelly
3/10/2016 02:53:53 pm

Love your poem, Lynne! Your words are beautiful! Thanks for sharing!

Reply
Tara link
3/10/2016 04:10:00 pm

I love the way you connected a memory to your family's past - such strong imagery in this poem, too.

Reply



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    Lynne loves to write in the early morning hours, especially in warm weather when she can sit outside on the patio.  After a walk with her three Welsh Corgis, her mind is cleared and her spirit is inspired by the choir of birds in nearby bushes and trrees. 

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