LIGHT (ghazal 1)
Barbara MacKay:
Before dawn, that slant of light,
just enough for the soul to feel the warmth of light.
The artist begins her sketch by morning's light;
etches in shadows in the sun's deepening light.
The unrequited lover searches for light;
the poet is the giver of light.
Ah, Barbara, let darkness fall from your sight.
Live again in the halo of light!
WHISPERS (ghazal 2)
Barbara MacKay:
Her words, lost in a whisper,
the hum of the feeding tube a prolonged whisper.
Ninety-five, mute but stable,
"Good genes," well-wishers whisper.
This room is lined with eggshells,
mind wanderings taut as a string of vibrant whispers.
The umbilical cord, so hard to sever,
childish whispers deepen into adult whimpers.
Yesterday, I left her room almost free of obligation,
my conscience barely whispering.
No comments:
Post a Comment