Gladiators

The first is bronze
A reminder of where and when
The first meeting space
So long ago
Scattered memories the only remnants of that time
The red telephone box
A copper crown
Gentle curls
Curved, slender neck
Silver shackles binding me to myself
Forced to just watch you watch me
Rusted through
Growing old but somehow brand new
Speaking a little clearer now
Ribbons and flowers
Roses and daisy-chains
A rusting tiara
A gold necklace
The middle of the beginning
Just starting to see you properly
Without a mind-filling fog clouding our vision
The shining surface
The better you
A mysterious chuckle
A frown, trying not to laugh
The third of two thousand years
A sliver of pretence
The poor mask to your disguise
Your closed eyes give away nothing
Holly and ivy entwine as the bond grows
You shed your spiky bristles
And we can find a new side of you
The fourth and fifth shine just as silver
One large and round
A circle here
Your smile is full
Your eyes open
Your voice happy
The lion in your heart leaping for joy
The other is small
Sharp corners and twisted turns
Trying to cling to the fraying fabric
The threads loosening themselves from the great tapestry
Our footsteps in the poppy fields covered now by rain
The sixth is a rusting grey
A defeated warrior offering flowers to the lion opponent
Your battered shield and bent spear broken at your side
Empty and over.
The last is gold
A shining, fat, yellow sun
Your chin high and sharp
Your crown delicate and scratched
The scars healed almost fully
The flowers dead and wilted.

Poet's Note: This poem is based loosely on a dream I had about two people -"gladiators"- battling, first on ice, then blind, and finally in cyberspace on a giant, hollow, spherical structure with loads of jagged chunks cut out of it. The dream ended with one of the gladiators hanging one-handed off of the structure swinging his sword wildly at his opponent, who was climbing over it with his feet and hands hooked into it so as not to fall off. I wrote the poem at 6:43am in July 2007, just after I woke up.

Katie J.