Tethered to Root Red
Vietnam threatened like a cobra
coiled in a basket. We had no skills
or balance. Rebellion
was my signature or so I thought.
No pristine porcelain wedding dress
with satin heels or sparkling tiara.
I got married in red velvet, wore hiking
boots at my reception. The soundtrack
was scratchy – rock & raunchy blues.
Failed companionships swallowed
my red & purple, my Van Gogh
patterns of starlight & yellow.
Years pass like torrents of mud.
Sometimes I regret the blunders,
missed steps & lost vows.
But however hapless or brief,
I still prefer the attempt
to tether to orchid or root.
13 thoughts on "Tethered to Root Red"
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flippin brilliant!!!!!!!!
As he said.
With a string of exclamation.
Title is *#&#^% awesome!
Reference and! and date stamped.
St. Vincent, love.
Red velvet and docs.
You are sooooo cool, so is this.
And ……… submit this.
So many swirling meanings, with clarity. Like a great song.
Love the last lines -prefer the attempt to tether to orchid or not!
Years pass like torrents of mud.
Such a great description – thick and slow but torrential, this passing of time
Terrific. It feels like you’re trying something a bit new here, a sort of epigrammatic succinctness a la Larkin, especially near the end. I like it.
I think the stroke caused me to think in shorter sentences but the perspective is widened.
Makes me think and feel — two expressions in short supply these days. Thanks, Linda.
This really pulled me, like the slow pull of an anchor. I had to read twice and love the power of your words, the descriptive details, the love with which you carve your meaning. One gets the sense of a timeline,
“Years pass like torrents of mud.” Shew, don’t they? I love this line. I love how you unfold and compress time in your poems–a sotryteller’s eye.
I love how painterly your poems often are. The way you think and remember is so vivid and full of color and it makes reading your words that way for us.
This is a powerful poem, using colors to evoke a lifetime of memories–great work!
Love your use of colors throughout & that line “Years pass like torrents of mud” took my breath away along with your last line. Powerful and haunting.