In the hour before sunrise,
these dark eyes wander half-lit worlds
of watery shoals and wellsprings,
where the earth’s own birthwater spills
into long strides, running, searching
where the tide floods with the salt
of an unforgiving sea.
Then I dream you are not afraid,
and I am screaming down the shoreline
desperate to clear the air, wash away
a voice of murky runnels, scour clean
the hour, the brine-soaked minute
of fog horns booming when your words drown,
lost in the great, grey depths
of each dawn that breaks without you.
A contest entry
- Dreaming / Nightmares by Naridill.
300 points, ended October 17, 2007, 6 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
lost in the great, grey depths
of each dawn that breaks without you.
I can tell he’s gone but I can’t tell what the circumstances were. I guess it doesn’t matter. Gone is pretty much gone.
Silver trophies are a pretty good indication of good poetry.
-
i love the similie of wandering around in dreams and having that sort of purgatory/limbo thing going on, and then how that was mirrored back to how that same feeling is when youve just fallen out with someone or do something rather silly and that same sense of purgatory/limbo feel you have!
great write!
-
nice wright. Liked it alot. Has a nice flow too it too and i like the vocab.
A+++
~[dREAM]~
Adding your comment:
