Saturday, 29 April 2017

KINGFISHER BLUE


If I were in here much longer,
I think I'd request a paint box
To attempt the shades of blue and green,
And all the seasons in between.

They ultra-sounded my heart, my lungs,
And needled their way in,
And out of scar tissue - old walls,
Built to protect me, crumble.

Traumatised trauma sites -
You could paint me by numbers;
Here vermillion, there magenta,
Everywhere kingfisher blue.

Those were the paints my parents used,
Depleted now. Except where their daughter bruised.

(c) Shaista Tayabali, 2017


I was curled up beside the window, on the word 'vermillion', when one of the rheumatology registrars came by with news of the ultrasound of my heart, latest blood test results and the possibility of parole. Much later that night, blackbirds and wisteria welcomed me home. Outside my bedroom, Mum's 'Kingfisher' approves my return...


Artwork: Kim Glass 'Much Better'
Perveen Tayabali 'Kingfisher' 

2 comments:

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh thank heaven, you are home, though I am not sure how alarmed I should be by the info in your poem. I just know everything is better at home. I love the delightful green bed painting. And your mother's bird is a beauty too. Rest well, my dear friend. Enjoy being home. And stop by Poets united to enjoy your comments on Monday.

Kenza said...

Thrilled that you are home with your loved ones! Kenza.

Click to leave a comment