The Women who Wait

Odilon Redon, Illuminated Flower

The Women Who Wait

If I need you,
will you come,
with love-put light
to drive away the smell
of man-sweat and boy-blood?

Here, the storms whip
and the shadows moan
black beneath the blue,
but I ask for—not so much—
roses under a peach sun,
the lifeline of sea, its sparkle, and
the whisper of wind in my hair,
telling me you are coming home.

My poem from the Oracle. I thought at first she wanted me to write about Penelope, but she wanted the message to include women everywhere throughout time.

40 thoughts on “The Women who Wait

    • I don’t think I know another way, Luanne! 😂 I just start writing, and the poem tells me where it wants to go. Trickier, of course, if it’s a form. But they never seem to work if I force them to be something they don’t want to be!

  1. Ah, Merril, your poem reminds me of when Greg was in Ecuador as a Peace Corps Volunteer. We had only been dating a few months when he left. I dwell on these words: “but I ask for—not so much—.” Those few words somehow capture my feelings during that time. Such a lovely, lovely poem.

  2. I don’t know how I missed this! Distracted probably. Yes, the first thought is for Penelope, but the story is the same for millions of women who could only wait and hope. Those last lines are beautiful.

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