Memory of Wings

Sunday Scribblings is a writing group I belong to, each week a new topic is posted for a 'free form' writing experiment. This week the topic is The Photograph. This is what I've come up with. Inspired by a stone girl I met in an overgrown cemetery in the Czech Republic...

I came upon her
late in the day
at the edge of the path,
alone. 
The Armless Maiden
The Wingless Angel
whatever one would call her
there she was
stranded.
Kneeling at the graveside
eyes turned toward heaven
beseeching
or accusing
no way to tell.
Hands and arms
crumbled to dust
and I am reminded
of the fairy-tale girl
betrayed by her father
given away like chattel.
The daughter
sacrifices her hands,
surrenders them to bloody stumps,
rather than be bought
and traded
like so much
lumber.
But this one--
this forgotten girl
at the edge of the path
has lost more than hands.
Rising from her back
rusty bones that once held
wings.
The twisted iron
hovers behind her
as if it remembers
flight.
The crumbling remnants
reach toward heaven
beseeching
or accusing
no way to tell.
And I am reminded
of another fairy-tale girl
not so long ago
now, even
somewhere
going about her days
wingless
grounded by thoughts
of Too Much
and Not Enough
freedom traded
for normalcy
for Fitting In
for Right and Proper
because it's
expected.
All of us
everywhere
driving in traffic
waiting in line
laying in bed
or standing at the
edge of the path
alone in the wood
considering her self in stone.
This woman
that woman
haunted every night
by the aching in
her back
and the one
in her soul
the ache
that contains
the memory of wings.
********************************
Photo and words ©Angi Sullins. Thank you for not reprinting without permission

Comments

[Sérgio]

Well.. almost everything is already written here.
I just have a question... where in Czech republic?

[sookie]

I wrote something like that about a house I used to pass on the way to school. It was a creepy house but seemed so sad. It was a wonderful old Victorian that had awesome turrets and gingerbread trim. I wish I could find that old story my teacher said it gave her goosebumps. What a wonderful way to remember something. Not very many people can put words to paper and make you feel as if your there!

[patois]

Phenomenally well done. This strikes within me quite deeply.

[Laurel Earthe]

Beautiful, Angi. Do you think we can have banners for this blog as well?

[Tumblewords]

Fascinating! Your words span the worlds!

[Jane Doe]

What an eloquent and beautiful piece. It is so poignant and powerful. Great writing!

[Granny Smith]

What a haunting picture and the poem that interprets it so sensitively! You seamlessly weave literary illusions with modern equivalents, and still leave us with that forlorn angel, forever flightless.

[Autrice]

I could spend hours prowling through old cemeteries, snapping pictures of the crumbling statues and stones.

I loved your Scribbling this week.

[Betty C.]

That is an absolutely gorgeous photograph -- I love the different levels of light, from slightly over-exposed sun to the deepest black.