Eshtine

poem: sestina

I wrote this in college, dug it out for an open mike t'other night:

"We ate the food, we drank the wine":
that's one verse of the song.
You were so annoyed when I told its secret:
the drink was with One whose blood and water
mixed. You had loved the weave
of music and lyric; I killed what you liked

when I revealed meaning. Now, that singer like
a vulnerable child, who has fixations with wine:
we've both tried to interpret him; we've
sat with ears glued to speakers, replaying songs.
"Is he saying 'watch her' or 'water'?"
You never minded doing that. He had a secret

similar to the now-revealed secret
you'd hidden so long. Is that why you like
him? Is that what your blood and water
stirs for? I once dreamt something about wine
and you (but it's not important), remember songs
you'd sing: no swimming in the bottle, we've

all drowned. Not for you did I weave
that poem: "Don't worry, love, your secret's
safe with me"--someone else's songs
inspired me. It's not like
I've known you that long. But the wine
of you transformed the bottles of water

that had been my life. Water's
not thick as blood, but your life weaves
as close as family to me. Vintage wine
is what I remember: you telling me secrets,
sharing your stories with me like
I was your sister. So many songs

talk now of a Great Divide. Songs--
if you interpret them!--are flooded with water
and fire, catastrophe. They act like
portents, but I won't believe, we've
been divided, but we have a secret:
we won't read into things too far, we take wine as wine.

The web we weave, we act like
we are free now of secrets, but for his song:
"The whiskey is water, the water is wine."

Posted by eshtine at January 12, 2003 07:04 PM