Dream Ending in a Host of Angels Zipping Me into My Grandmother’s Dress
Once & could-be-future girl, believe we’re not like you. Sure,
the pickup was tucked in dusk, shed all carefree w/ its sunburn
shimmer. Still nothing new to say about the creek, how reeds
get moony, or when we saw pelicans hold hands & gossip.
But y’all must wanna get this close to soft, so here goes: spool
heels, silver sleeves w/ pink accents, kind to stifle the trailer
static, same color Dot says Granny passed in. Past since good
& we did keep her pearls for you, kissed the hems holy, darned
the moth marks back to true. Goes: none of it imitation. Goes:
we are her barefoot bloodline, butter in the salt pan. Trust
you’re not from this sweat but still a goodness. You once most
only boy in the yard, laugh into your born polish. Step-joy,
uncousin: home is a name you bless in silk & cinch. Believe
we’re all alive here. Come hum this lace blood-warm. Glisten.
Font size:
Written on 2019
Submitted by Drone232 on June 02, 2022
Modified on May 01, 2023
- 49 sec read
- 7 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | ABCDEFGHIJKLMN |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic heptameter |
Characters | 877 |
Words | 164 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 14 |
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"Dream Ending in a Host of Angels Zipping Me into My Grandmother’s Dress" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/128515/dream-ending-in-a-host-of-angels-zipping-me-into-my-grandmother’s-dress>.
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