i found myself
slipping on mum's high heels
- the ones with the broken spine
and plastic jewels -
wanting to stumble
the way i use to
instead i caught the
heel-toe-wobble rhythm
i'd learnt so long ago
comforting me with the smell
of sour milk & take out
these memories just
aren't what they use to be.
Author notes
Prompt:: Home
Can't get the formatting quite right.
A contest entry
- Home by CarolDesjarlais.
1500 points, ended November 25, 2008, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Honesty would be lovely
Comments
-
You set up a whole story in my head. I remember those broken shoe wobbles...know them yet.
The use of "comforting me with the smell
of sour milk & take out" was just brilliant but I felt a need for you to have gone more ddeply into that, some way rather than the tellign two last lines...show me, show me, show me...
-
specific fades
I get a sense derivatives aren't enough as freedom to try deeds in example, such as "wanting to stumble
the way i use to" becomes implicatively key, mentioned early on as a wedge between strides and reason.
there's a roteness to "instead i caught the
heel-toe-wobble rhythm
i'd learnt so long ago" that''s keen on the kinesthetics but wanting attachment to show of other attempts than just being busy it seems, now in 'understanding.'
it has an outside inside feel,
called Carolyn
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