Poetry Friday – The Collected Works of Susan Ramsey

Why It Didn’t Work

It had seemed a reasonable idea,

     to paint herself as this modest tributary

in late March, frozen, but flowing under the ice.

     A crumbling bridge, some discreet graffiti

underneath, not easy to see but enough to forestall

     criticisms of prettiness, to suggest disruption, tension.

But subtle, subtle.  She had it all roughed in

     by the end of the first day and went to bed happy.

It rained all night.  By noon a flotilla

     of moon colored floes was collapsing

over the millrace like clubbed swans,

      dunked, roiled, bobbing up downriver trailing

long streamers of foam as they slammed

   into the jagged mass jamming the bridge,

rammed constantly from behind,

     nowhere ahead to go but over the falls.

(Rhino online)

Full Poetry Friday Round-Up compliments of Check It Out.

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