in the midst of morning rucks
and humps and moonlit range,
he read, i read, we read
disjointed and scrawled
w.o.r.d.s
bunkered down in
legioned rows, at guarded
watch, i wistfully recalled
his winsome smile.
and smiled-
in quiet repose.
we disassembled,
reassembled,
cadence to the call
and the fall of feet
in unified walk.
but solitary longing.
lonely, marching on.
in the midst.
in the mist.
in the hard red soil
we lay while the nightscape
alighted, aflare in reds
and blues and sometimes whites.
those muted hues of want.
Author notes
ehhhh... very unfinished, unrefined feeling. but it is what it is for today!
A contest entry
- Sounds in Words by JM Kenyon.
525 points, ended December 25, 2007, 8 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Beautiful. Somehow you get away with
punctuation. It symbolizes something. Or
rather something or 'other'. Both are poetic
hybrids.
-
It is superb today, so if it changes on the morrow (or someday after then) I love to read this piece again.
Great job.
s and best wishes alwasys... ~Genie~
-
this
breathes
I don't know really what I could offer as critique, I loved the repetitions in this, they were so effective.
I read it out loud, sounded really good to me. Wish I could offer help.
Adding your comment:
