Pax, Pace, Peace;
a dry rest dust voice speaking
in the arms of unwanton trigger fingers
and easyspoken warring ways,
you broke.
Broke me (we) down
to eyelinds closing to keep the grit out
and smiles sewn up (one side then the next)
until this wishful calm
was an army of limbs jerking small steps drawn towards.
What?
Where was it going?
Your liquid words washing it all over and out.
A contest entry
- Gandhi's Dry Voice by CarolDesjarlais.
1400 points, ended October 4, 7 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Yes, yes, yes! If I liked this poem any more than I already do, my own poetry would become very jealous. Nicely done!
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Waht an interesting write... sewn mouths and sealed eyes...yes, the world so easily forgets and needs such heroes again. Could you check this? It stopped the flow of my reading: "to eyelinds closing"
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