standing in tune with the sun,
i spread my arms out like an old antenna...
the wind cuts through me, calls my name-
whistling.
when i was ten, i would constantly hear an angel speaking to me-
she said her name was beleza- i guessed she was Portuguese
i never saw her again after
one morning i caught her crying in the corner of my room
i asked her what was wrong;
and i could never muster an answer-
i hope heaven is all that it supposed to be
the wind felt like her- a silent presence ; a constant feeling;
damn i miss her voice.
A contest entry
- Semi-Quickie #2 (give me soul) by iamlost.
800 points, ended November 22, 10 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What do you think?
Comments
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I really enjoyed this, the imagery and story are very well developed and leave me curious for more.
Thanks for your entry,
~lost
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thank u very much for the nice feedback and the silver
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The best poem i've read in this contest, without a doubt. The imagery was great, especially:
'the wind felt like her- a silent presence ; a constant feeling;'
And the reminiscence in the middle was excellent, very well thought through.
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