Breathing in the Sea
A visitor once ran from this room –
thought she saw a ghost. I admit
these frail lace curtains take on a life
of their own, but I believe people
carry their own ghosts with them.
Been here all my life and never
Everything about this house is spectral
gray. New drapes would only make
the walls cry out for paint.
I’m content to live in the past.
The fluttering flowers and birds
are right pretty. Grandmother Hathorn
made them. Maybe she figured
they were as close as I’d ever come
to a bridal veil. We redo to make do
in this house.
Sometimes I take a nap up here,
watch the curtains billowing
until they lull me to sleep.
Don’t they look frothy like seafoam?
Muslin would snap like sails.
The sea breathes right through
This poem was first published by Minute Magazine.
Alarie Tennille graduated from the University of Virginia in the first class admitting women. She’s now lived more than half her life in Kansas City, where she serves on the Emeritus Board of The Writers Place. Her latest poetry book, Waking on the Moon, contains many poems first published by The Ekphrastic Review. Please visit her at alariepoet.com.
Judith Bader Jones
7/22/2019 06:27:03 pm
The poet captures me. I am there. I am the ghost of yesterday when I view the painting and read the lines.
7/23/2019 03:10:16 am
Thanks so much, Judith.
7/23/2019 01:13:33 am
This is gorgeous, from beginning through the end. It makes my day.
7/23/2019 03:08:25 am
You, in turn, made my day, too, Bob. Thank you.
7/23/2019 02:55:27 pm
7/28/2019 09:53:06 pm
Wow, Alarie, the entire poem works so well with the art. The last 2 lines took my breath away. Lovely.
1/2/2020 03:57:33 pm
Thank you, Sylvia.
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