Kitty Havisham
In my Ruby Bungalow
In the township of Raheen
I sit alone in my Ruby room
A spinster humped without a loom
I withdrew here so long ago.
Me and my moving eyes...
That seek out every corner
Of this hapless womb.
The days fold gently
Small hankerchiefs
Tucked one into the other
The smell of lavender from wooden drawers
And Myrrh floats in the air
The sound is wind beyond the pane
Blows at a garden in despair
My energy is sucked.
....dark ...dark...the passing time
Made mournful by the years
And my damp tears have stained the walls
When hearing of the wars.
My heart whose beat is cold and stilling
My heart that holds me down...my hands...
Locked to the Ruby chair
Will I ever rise again.
Kristine Byrne sept 2013
(Written to express my mood..after reading the last poems of Anne Sexton)