Melodie Corrigall

Prose & Poetry

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Author Archives: Melodie Corrigall

Scarlet Ribbons

September 14, 1978 by Melodie Corrigall

The heavy smell of hot, wet clothing; winter dressed people in a crowded bus. Lucky she’d got a seat. That would have been too much. Standing for an hour after trudging around all day. Her feet were tired. She ached right up to her thighs. Never did have strong legs. Born on a farm, born … Continue reading →

Posted in Fiction, Relationships.

The Period of Soon

September 14, 1976 by Melodie Corrigall

He arrived too early. Much too early. He was always a bit overanxious. The worried type. He was alone, of course. Standing alone on one particular spot. He waited halfheartedly. He knew it was too early to begin seriously waiting. He had been afraid that contrary to all schedules and recorded data it might by … Continue reading →

Posted in Cul De Sac, Fiction.

Dreams Lost

September 29, 1960 by Melodie Corrigall

Once pots of earth
carried miles
in strawberry baskets
“and Susan shall have
a new hat.” Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry.

Yellow Song

September 14, 1960 by Melodie Corrigall

I see the yellow song upon my paper
the colour of the sun or the
centre of a daisy
petals down

Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry.

The Form the Same

September 14, 1960 by Melodie Corrigall

To love you, is to elect

open heart surgery
without benefit of
anesthetic
for a body which otherwise
would survive
plenty of uneventful days
with minimum exertion. Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry.

The Children

September 14, 1960 by Melodie Corrigall

All her children are dead children
but some still follow her
like thin shadows
clutching at her aching legs
as she walks along the back streets

small, faded sweaters
patched jeans
tattered dresses Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry.

Mrs. X

September 14, 1960 by Melodie Corrigall

Mrs. X, her name was strange and long,
broke one night out of her dingy, foul-smelling
second floor room
and proceeded to throw all manner of things
eggs, tomatoes, dirty glasses and finally a chair
at her husband, hiding in the vestibule below Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry.

For The Best

September 14, 1960 by Melodie Corrigall

When I asked in trepidation
and waited for another answer
you only glanced at me
so now we both know
and soon must admit it Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry.

Flying

September 14, 1960 by Melodie Corrigall

“You don’t look a day older,”
he glows amiably.
Which is true.
I have a youthful face.
And being a sport,
I respond in kind. Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry.

Bread a Loan

September 14, 1960 by Melodie Corrigall

those who are better business men
than I
offered a price
4 my country

they called it by a longer word
than sold Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry.

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