Thursday, January 25, 2007


      For Virginia Woolf (25 Jan 1882 - 28 Mar 1941)

One stone, two stones, three stones,
chosen like lovers, each caressed
beneath a sullen oak.

They will go down with you,
smooth and heavy, and cool
as winter cheeks.
This is the texture of death,
the threat of your extinction
carried in pinafore pockets,

Weightlessness is a dream,
a promise for the aftermath,
as you drag your body
halfway across a shallow stream,
step by deliberate step.

You look life in the face,
no longer envy those
who never had to strangle
voices in the dark,
who do not fear the hours.

Your silhouette eclipses
an innocent sun, then you’re gone.
One shoe slips off, one shoe
choosing to float while you sink
to a room of your own,
a bed complete with flowers
ignorant of light.

The river is silent, Virginia,

(mag, 2003)

song of the day: westwards we're headed by lucky jim


Collin Kelley said...

This is so beautiful, Michi. Makes me want to go watch The Hours.

...always the years between us, always the years, always the love. Always the hours.

michi said...

thank you, collin. *S*

although i know you only stopped by to listen to the song again ... *L*


(uheiih says my word verification - do you think i should change the music to yodelling?)

Christine E. Hamm, Poet Professor Painter said...

Nice piece!

Were you inspired by the movie, The Hours?

It inspired one of my drowning poems.

michi said...

yes, christine, the movie and the book.

can i read that poem of yours anywhere?

thanks for stopping by,


Anonymous said...

yes virginia, there is a michi.
lovely trib for one of my fave deadpoet stories.

do you know about the trees?

LukeBuckham said...

"chosen like lovers"

Very nice.

Have you read 'The Waves'? It's Woolf's most radical book--pure, radiant poetry all the way through--no plot, and no need for one either.