Last night, Shahrzad came to visit me in a dream.
It was dark.
I could only see the shadow of her; and the whites of her eyes sparkling.
I could hear the tinkering of her bracelets from a distance.
Catching a glimpse of her tattooed feet, drawn hyacinths in pink piercing darkness.
She is like the scent of jasmine flowers
on the saddest summer afternoon
you
have
ever
had.
She came close,
leaned in on my face,
her voice
a
sweet
breeze:
"I have a story for you to tell the King and only when you wake, will you remember it."
Speechless--mute, I awoke.
What is the story?
Ah. . .I remember the dream.
3 comments:
I'm curious who Shahrzad is. I Googled the name and am assuming she has personal relevance. I like the variety of the lines and rhythm of this poem: I think the presentation fits with the themes of an elusive dream.
I love the spacing and the you/have/ever/had is so poweful the way it's laid out. I think that it would sound cooler if you just said "She is the scent..." and remove the "like" it just seems more powerful. I like this and I'm glad that we got this poetry band back together.
Hi Mr. Andrews!
Yes, I think you are definitely right about the word "like."
Thanks for the feedback. I guess I should clarify that this poem has cultural context both African-American and Persian/Arab.
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