stonepicnicking_okapi: okapi (The Blank Page)
stonepicnicking_okapi ([personal profile] stonepicnicking_okapi) wrote2019-01-26 04:16 pm
Entry tags:

Poetry: Bright Star [film, 2009]: Cleave: Gen

Title: Cleave
Fandom: Bright Star [film, 2009]
Length: 200
Notes: POV Mrs. Frances Brawne (Fanny's mother), free verse, fandom #3 and prompt 003. Cleave for the 100 Fandoms Challenge.


The heart cleaves.
It splits. It splinters
as you watch the one you’ve watched since first breath borne
at her stitches.
You’ve watched her grow. You’ve watched her bloom.
You’ve cheered as you’ve feared every step she took away from you.
She’s a poem you know, not by heart, hearts are for lovers, but in the very sinews of your strained and wrinkled hands, which have smoothed and folded and soothed and borne the nicks of time and hazard.
And when she stumbles, and when her heart breaks, and when her tears fall,
you grieve.
And sweep up dead butterflies.

The heart cleaves.
You’d give her all your wisdom
like spoons of tonic, like sleepless nights, like widows’ weeds
but she wouldn’t heed even if you spoke the words aloud
that’s how wise you are
and how young she is
that’s the length of the road between you
she must discover the great healer
for herself
she must write her own maudlin verse
walk alone through crepuscular forests
wear a ring
until, one day, she looks down and forgets, for a moment, who gave it to her
You join to her as you leave her as
your hearts cleave.
smallhobbit: (butterfly)

[personal profile] smallhobbit 2019-01-26 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Lovely verse. Although I don't know the fandom the sentiment is very clear and understandable.
orchid314: (Default)

[personal profile] orchid314 2019-01-26 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh my goodness, this is gutting because, if my memory serves, Fanny Brawne wore the ring Keats gave her until she died. To think she could look down and forget who gave it to her: on the one hand you want poor Fanny to have a respite from the memory of Keats, to not live her whole life in retrospect. But to know that life will eventually wear down the edges of a memory like that feels like a loss in itself.

So beautifully done, as always.