You were silent for too many days. It left a void. I've just come in from hours of pounding the concrete in the dark. This was like a flower on my breakfast tray.
This reminded me of quick sand, words spinning and a sinking, drawn by the downward spiralling scale (sound) and the increasingly arresting narration, those wonderful baritonal Bs and Ds of the final parts coming after the poetic, poetically arresting and affecting, variations that make up the first part of the poem. Superb, loved this poem.
from a sky blue
You were silent for too many days. It left a void. I've just come in from hours of pounding the concrete in the dark. This was like a flower on my breakfast tray.
ReplyDelete...and bitter women will bite your heavy tongues...
ReplyDeleteAnd Lime, your comment is like a chocolate on my pillow. Always a pleasure to have you stopping by. :-)
ReplyDeleteBadger, I'm sensing you speak from experience. :-D
ReplyDeleteThis reminded me of quick sand, words spinning and a sinking, drawn by the downward spiralling scale (sound) and the increasingly arresting narration, those wonderful baritonal Bs and Ds of the final parts coming after the poetic, poetically arresting and affecting, variations that make up the first part of the poem. Superb, loved this poem.
ReplyDeleteIndeed, I'm heavy with experience... and my tongue is full of holes such that the wind howls through it. ;-)
ReplyDeleteThat's funny. I thought that whistling was just endemic to Badgers who speak.
ReplyDeleteThanks Ms Storm. :-)
ReplyDelete