4th Annual Brigid in the Blogosphere Poetry Slam

fire, Zann Carter

TWO POEMS BY SIV CEDERING FOX

Dead Women

return
to brush
their hair.

They use our combs,
careful not to break
the teeth.

They borrow our brushes,
leaving a trace of hair
in the bristles.

They enter our beds
to feel the warmth of a man
they have almost forgotten,

but not forgotten.
They try on our gloves and soft
scarves.

They try on our nightgowns
and turn slowly
in front of the mirror.

In the morning we wake,
smooth out the gowns and scarves
in the drawer, sit in front

of the mirror.
We raise our brush or comb to our heads,
stop, notice the hair,

continue.

Peaches

There was a contest
once
for the best picture of a peach

in China.

Madame Ling
or was it Ching
sat in some yellow
pollen

then

carefully, again
she sat
upon
a piece of white

paper


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For more poems posted today, check links in the comments of the original invitation at Branches Up, Roots Down blog, and in the comments of her own poetry post today. And maybe google Brigid poetry....

For a wonderful post about Brigid and this day, check out Hecate's post from yesterday. Oh, and her poem for today is swell, too.

Bright blessings,
Zann