Wednesday, like all days, is a good day for poetry.
The last Wednesday Poems featured Narcissus. I wrote this as a companion piece. Echo was a nymph in love with Narcissus. Narcissus, in one version of the story, bends too close to the pool of water where he is reflected (he is in love with his own image) and drowns. Here Echo laments his drowning:
Echo's Song
Poor Narcissus, only
a shadow, a silhouette
lost in the shallow puddles of April
Stems of water, cold as stones
kiss the back of your neck
Poor Narcissus, only
a flicker, a reflection
of a single season
Your mirror is broken
into spokes of silver
Poor Narcissus, if only
you could hear me calling
your name, my voice
ripples into circles that weep
into the coolness,
pebbles dancing over loss.
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| Echo and Narcissus by John William Waterhouse 1903. Wikimedia images |
The last Wednesday Poems featured Narcissus. I wrote this as a companion piece. Echo was a nymph in love with Narcissus. Narcissus, in one version of the story, bends too close to the pool of water where he is reflected (he is in love with his own image) and drowns. Here Echo laments his drowning:
Echo's Song
Poor Narcissus, only
a shadow, a silhouette
lost in the shallow puddles of April
Stems of water, cold as stones
kiss the back of your neck
Poor Narcissus, only
a flicker, a reflection
of a single season
Your mirror is broken
into spokes of silver
Poor Narcissus, if only
you could hear me calling
your name, my voice
ripples into circles that weep
into the coolness,
pebbles dancing over loss.
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