In any case, I've got a little teaser to a poem that's unfinished in a different sense. i.e. the rough draft is done and there've been a few edits since then, but it ain't finished till it hits the bookshelves (totally wishful thinking). Probably not even then. But without further ado...
Grandmother Genie
Grandmother Jeanie, on the wedding day
of her youngest granddaughter,
beckoned at the bedroom door
in the darkling hours before the earth
had spun
its full rotation, bringing into reach
the pink orange dance of cold dawn
rays.
Muffled in her fiery dreams,
illusions of warmth in her lover's
clasp,
the girl emerged by inches, haltingly,
like a silkworm in reverse, shedding
bright threads,
in the wake of that constant, knowing
tapping
by that brown dry-knuckled hand.
On its hook by the door the white gown
hung,
draped in lace like cobwebs
and spidered with fresh pearls,
which she knew could stand for tears
but thought so pretty it didn't matter;
in the shadows it hovered with a
starchy shape,
the headless form of a ghostly bride.
“Grandmother, it's early, and you
need your rest,
as frail as you've looked these passing
years,
and what will the guests in the first
four pews
not gossip about a hollow-eyed bride?”
The withered hand shot out a silent
warning,
eyes darted to the curtained
windowpanes.
“So time's short, come to the chair
by the heater,
and I'll listen, your poppet once
more.”
And if you want more "Grandmother Genie," find me a publisher. Xlibris, like any commercially run independent publishing company, is fee for service, and considering the profitability of a poetry collection, I'm still in debt from Spring Cleaning.
I'll come back to the knitting once the drafting brain cells finish taking their midwinter vacation.
