Lament of a Wool-Spinner’s Husband*

Beyond the porch, hydrangea weave a blue and purple skein,
your fingers spin naked kisses on the wheel – 

wool leaves a honey smell of earth on your hands.
I listen to rain the wheel makes.

I taste crabs, tide, when you say here, feel this, it is so soft 
and beautiful, I say is this for Pablo's socks? 

Yes, I can see as you spin, you will then knit this yarn 
into loaves and fishes. His feet, so white, will know 

salvation and charity, they will be an origin story, feet 
that create the world like Enkidu and Gilgamesh – 

wild man, bull man, who beats his shield before the gods, 
his song immortal. If only I had such socks!

Dear wife, I see a cortege of right whales and topaz, 
hawksbills and vole-song emerge braided from your hands, yet 

when I try on the socks, they are heavy as iron. My voice
sours, I bark like a dog, my words falling down stairs

like malediction, take them, please, I feel silly
In them, they are bluebirds of misery. I

peel myself off, skin turned inside out, hamper rim-shot 
my soul – I will be sweat washed from Sunday's laundry,

then drain and spread and seep down through sandy loam, 
where I am salt that feeds the flower beds under our awning

and stain your lips again
hydrangea blue.

*Ode to My Socks by Pablo Neruda

For Shay’s Word Garden

15 thoughts on “Lament of a Wool-Spinner’s Husband*

  1. I am just gobsmacked, qbit, with where you have taken this. I reread the Neruda first as its been a long time, and it of course is a masterpiece that could have been conceived by no one but him, but you have lifted up the theme and embroidered it from a different and unique perspective, so that I have to say, echoing his last lines, your beauty is doubly beauty, seen from the angle of the giver, and I especially love the recurring hydrangeas and the feet of Enkidu and Gilgamesh making the humble socks as epic as Neruda did, but there are too many great lines here to quote back at you. Really an excellent, soaring piece of writing that encompasses the spirit of the great poet as it shows your own. Thanks so much for sharing it with us.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I must read Neruda’s write, I’m thinking that I might love yours still more. If he didn’t have the front porch in his, . .
    I have written five times with socks getting at least a mention, my February 3 effort even had a picture of my “Fruit of the Loom” sock toes protruding from my sandals (winter wear here for me).
    ..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks!! I thought you would like that. I know from your blog you are taking a bit of a break, but I thought “nooo! One more! Just read this one before you go!” LOL !

      Like

  3. Good God. I don’t even know what to say about this, except that I feel I should read it again and again.
    For now I shall call out these pieces of gorgeousness:
    “your fingers spin naked kisses on the wheel”

    my words falling down stairs

    like malediction, take them, please, I feel silly
    In them, they are bluebirds of misery.”

    AND:
    “Yes, I can see as you spin, you will then knit this yarn
    into loaves and fishes.”

    Whew. SO well done, you.

    Liked by 1 person

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