breath coming
short spurts in frosted cold
clear early morning air
see steam evacuating nostrils frantically
doesn't warm my sinuses
skin that covers eyes when sleeping
too-minty-cold from inside out
thinking of dogs I've had
jumping off flailing swings into sandy grain
nostalgia like truck stop diners
a flimsy roadblock I maul over and wonder
what position is she sleeping in?
she's surrounded in me without me there
I'm surrounded in she
as,
shivering,
I pay my bus fare
Author notes
Written December 13th, 2003
What did you think
Comments
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I love the perfect way in which you've described memories. We don't remember whole events, just odd personal little details which mean so much to us. The lines:
"nostalgia like truck stop diners
a flimsy roadblock I maul over and wonder
what position is she sleeping in?"
struck me like a slap in the face. It's almost painful how familiar how these feelings are to me. I talked to my ex-boyfriend today, I feel cleansed, grown, almost like a new person. How beautiful to rid yourself of pride for an instant. Anyway, sorry for rambling about this, great write, I hope to read more of your work xxx -
Interesting write...I like how you just put down random thoughts and it's so human. I know there are times where my brain jumps from one thing to the other.
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"nostalgia like truck stop diners"
is just an amazing bit of poetry. My diner-of-memoir was called the Bean Pot. Good times.
You rock, B.
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I enjoyed the random and descriptive thought flows in this write, I felt the ending was its strength and the line "she's surrounded in me without me there" was excellent. -Lola
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