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on meeting the poet's daughter


one can't help
but listen to catch
odd phrasings
read upon a page
the morning after

polite hellos fade
into squeals
of sidewalk frolics
leaving us
pocketed

unforgotten words.

Author notes

inspired by reading... just a sketch.

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    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
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Comments

1 - 7 of 7

  • Balldinger silver member
    April 15

    Edit | Reply
    more color, man! where is your 64-color Crayola box? sorry, just givin' ya some hell. glad you're back and sketching again.


  • Cat
    March 12
    Edit | Reply
    i like it.


  • jantastic gold member
    March 12

    Edit | Reply
    pocketed

    this is intriguing and now I want to know what you were reading. I am glad it inspired and you do still have the touch. Just enough here. There's something...


  • klassy lassy
    March 12

    Edit | Reply
    Pebbles and pockets, some things are simply vibrant treasures stored to be revisited forever. Other things line our mornings with black and white leaving us to sort shades of gray, reluctantly.

1 - 7 of 7