Poludnica
Heat wave poetry
Arrayed in high, shimmering heat, the wanderer ambling the yellow king’s bride searches gaping hollows, a crossroads she makes of you sun-cursed, immovable Questioning always, that trick of immortality. What ceaseless melody beckons answering, giving name and ending to ageless pursuits Shade’s scythe and fortune’s tinder, all for the revelation of your music against the ruin of my survival. I linger, haunt— the bent-trunk tree, the starry dell, the open fields Decay a well-worn stone around your neck, I could drop it into the burled hollow with a decidedly atonal plunk if only to hear something other than the wind.
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this poem is brilliant because it makes the heat waves we’re enduring mythical. thank you for sharing.
Saw this poem in my email, logged into substack for the first time in ages just to like and comment on this because it’s so good! You have such a way with words! And to anyone seeing this who hasn’t read her novel Knave of Sands, you really should pick it up, it’s great