Ganesh In the Deeply Dark Dawn
Become a
Premium Member
and post notes and photos about your poem like Stephe Watson.
Poetry soup will not let me include the title of this poem as written.
The title is:
Ganesh in the Deeply Dark (Dawn)
so I am inserting it into the body of the poem, at its start, in bold.
Ganesh in the Deeply Dark (Dawn)
I sit, sullen
in this hot tub,
grown warm.
Here, I sit,
grown cold,
grown old.
The stars seem dim,
though neatly
arranged.
The dead leaves,
having leached their
green, beseeched their
sun-god, having breeched
their tip-top, up top, paraSol-top,
having reached the high holy Pale Blue,
having pleached in greens, having bleached
those same greens, having (perhaps mayhaps perhaps)
over-
reached,
fall silently around me.
Joining my tears in
filling this bath.
The light, warily
illumines the manuscript
sky.
Confronting my dark.
I can’t read these stars.
I can’t know my Way,
my Fate.
They say that if an elephant
could speak, we’d still
not understand her.
Wittgenstein’s lion.
The elephant isn’t.
The elephant is...
mine.
Copyright © Stephe Watson | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment