Stones, pregnant with possibilities,
unearth themselves,
gotten from gainly gut
of simmering insinuations
and I guess what they mean.
A river at a still curve,
laying over a soft spine
like an arm,
has stories and simple surrenders
a lover can not speak of
for fear of caving in.
I hold cold phone,
press my lips to it like a kiss,
and drop it to its old-fashioned cradle.
Author notes
prompt - silent phone
A contest entry
- Write Out There. by November-Dani.
550 points, ended November 28, 2008, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Astounding work Carol! The energies speak in stone, much greater than we communicate with all out electronics!
Touching the raw energy with this one dear!
Marvelous!
Marianne
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All i can say is wow. AMAZING flow of words and it is very very well written. Thank you so much for entering.
Dani. -
This paints a desire for closeness so very well, when we are apart we yearn sometimes for a voice. Lovely
C
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this is really quite amazing, it really makes you think of the simplicity of older things, and how they still work just fine. it stirred up some memories for me, best of luck in the contest
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