‘I am care’

‘I have no choice or I have a choice but it is not a choice’

I am part of a battalion 
of women that march
trance like into cross roads 
while traffic is moving 
creep into coal seams 
sit by unmarked graves 
sweep the dust 
conceal the stains


I zig this way and that 
but cannot reach 
the open door
in the river I sit naked 
clear water laps my ankles
I pull my dress skirt up 
cover my face 
my voice is speechless

I drop one foot 
from concrete onto glass 
I fall in a diagonal line 
when I pick myself up 
petals fall from my lace dress

the moon descends 
as the last chorister sings 
the high notes scald the sky 
my silk robe hangs 
from my bleached frame 
my pain is clutched 
in my fist

 I measure out my frame 
in fingers and thumbs 
I twist tissues into tourniquets 
I tell myself lies

I drift under street lights 
in a gold dress 
arm pits open 
hair hanging 
like closed curtains

I build castles 
for dreams I do not dream 
I twist minarets from shells 
yet I do not hear the sea 
I paint ceilings with stars 
and grow dark eyed 
pansies on the stairs

pale ghosts pass by 
vast halls are hung 
with unsaid prayers 
chandeliers drip 
amongst empty chairs
prostrate stockinged feet 
beseech, I ask for peace

when Pan pipes play 
I feel the music 
at the edge of a canyon 
I fall to my knees
 
the dry rocks of the quarry 
are marked horizontally 
as a tree grows 
from a woman 
in a red dress 
I see the sun set

joy passes 
as my battalion snakes 
past a bucket of indifference
fingers clickking
fists trembling 
temples throbbing 
eyes closing

I am care and this is my choice


                                                                                       after 'Pina'

This poem first appeared here (a lifetime ago): https://icefloepress.net/2020/12/01/i-am-care-a-poem-by-linnet-macintyre-w-a-painting-by-m-s-evans/