Look at the rust,
How it spreads like lichens
Over overlapping tin,
Turning panels rich red
Brown and bluish gray
And dusty black,
Until it grits the metal surface
To coarse sand and turns edges
Toward the sun like petals.
See the rust
That trims the drying buds
Of roses silent curled,
Paper-veined and thin,
Self-contained and beaten
By the peeling brown.
Listen to the creaking rust
Of threaded cap and pipe,
Complicit as they hold to one another.
Look at your rusty hair
Gone thin and white, my skin
Blooming with the creeping rust of age.
See us turn toward the sun
And hold to one another, complicit
In the silence of our veins.
- Posted by Karen
Oh Karen, this is so warm. It is a bloom.
ReplyDeleteI have been called a crusty old bastard but never a rusty old bastard. I think that's because they always used titanium to put me back together with. I think I would rather rust on away from this place, that long slow deterioration where no wrench fits quite right anymore.
ReplyDeleteRust is one of my very favorite things, but you already knew that. Nice piece.
ReplyDeleteI love how you turned something that's inorganic and rough into something organic and delicate; it really is pretty lichen-like. (Lichenous?) The colors and textures really pop out in this one... very splendid. :)
ReplyDeleteI love how you've tied everything together in this poem.
ReplyDeleteYou have really explored so well, depthfully and poetically, the many facets of rust in this poem! Nice.
ReplyDeleteI love the turn of the words to oneself, rusting with age but holding to each other ~ Lovely share ~
ReplyDeleteThis is a very poetic exploration of rust and all it may suggest both literally and figuratively.
ReplyDeleteLove the development of the idea of rust and its expansion. Beautifully penned. :)
ReplyDeleteIt is a pretty sort of red, isn't it.
ReplyDeletelovely! I especially like "See us turn toward the sun and hold to one another
ReplyDeletecomplicit in the silence of our veins." Wonderful writing!
this seductive substance that we like the looks of, but which at the same time surreptitiously destroys what it feeds on: you describe it so well.
ReplyDeleteOur being's are metal, time is but rust waiting to encapsulate us all. Good job. :)
ReplyDeleteHow beautifully and specifically you look at rust from both a literal and metaphorical perspective. The complexities of a simple thing fascinate.
ReplyDeleteThe whole thing fits perfectly. A gem here Karen. Loved this.
ReplyDelete"How it spreads like lichens"
ReplyDeleteBravo! What a great line.