Letters we sent across the continent,
the first time I held your hand,
my baby boy's smile,
Grandmother's fingers on the piano,
my favorite band in the headphones,
the smell of the Christmas tree,
a best friend's laughter,
first flight at the window seat,
her lips willingly seeking mine,
resting in hammock under the shade tree,
trick-or-treating door to door,
slip-n-slide all afternoon,
the years before puberty,
the future,
the present,
the past:
beautiful things don't last.
A contest entry
- The Most Beautiful Things by tara wilson.
1750 points, ended July 6, 2008, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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this reads too much like a list to me. When I said I was looking for simplicity, it means, choose one of these things, like watching them:
"resting in hammock under the shade tree," and expand on just that in your poem. Paint a story or moment for the reader to feel, here you list off beautiful things that don't last for you. Thanks for entering.
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Picture-postcard of your mind, is it?
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