Where was the moon
when I caught the sun?
She hid from my gentle strictures
behind a curve of the world,
and I had nothing with which
to entice her forth.
Her golden companion was mine,
plucked from the very sky
which he had warmed for me,
not so long ago.
Still, I could not help but long
for her tranquil caress,
cool against fevered brow.
Where was the moon?
I searched for her,
an elusive silver silhouette.
The way was lit by
my stolen light, and yet
I found nothing 'round the bend
but a multitude of distant,
glittering stars.
Author notes
Inspired by:
http://runningthroughrain.wordpress.com/2007/06/12/carlos-casteneda-on-following-your-path/
A contest entry
- you put the poet in poetry. by apples fell.
875 points, ended October 5, 2008, 44 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me things. Lots of things.
Comments
-
This is the type of poetry we love. Emotionally striking and utterly luminous. There is so much to love. From your extremely adept use of vocabulary to your excellent stanza structure.
Our only nitpicks are really your slight overuse of commas and this:
"for her tranquil caress,
cool against fevered brow"
Where the line feels like it is lacking a connective word.
We are also not fond of using question marks in poetry, but that is merely our personal preference for writing and not something you need to concern yourself with- unless it is a problem you have already considered working on.
Sorry for not commenting sooner, but the long wait was worth it, as this poem was the best we've read tonight.
Good luck in the contest.
- Kenny (loschung) and James (apples fell)
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