Peripheral Vision

I realized, a broken windshield too late,

the poignancy of my situation. As I picked

the broken glass out of my hair, I paused

to consider, how moments before impact

I was staring at the water droplets collected

on my side window, wondering if I could

 

balance one on top of a pin. Just how long

it would sit there before bursting. I watched

that one drop shatter into a hundred more

as they danced around my head. Ah! I was

an astronaut, just before the black, floating

against all comprehension. Trusting twisted

metal to keep me intact...

When I awoke, I still felt nothing.

Blind terror is a monster too massive

to comprehend. We must look to its sides,

tunneling deep into obscurity. Swallowing

it to lock in subconscious dungeons requires

a precise concentration. You must succeed

in blocking out all but the minutest, most

irrelevant details and blowing them up until they

can block out something the size of the sun.

The petals caught the wind,

drifted slowly and came to rest

atop my Mother's

wooden box.

I wondered, vacantly

how long they could

possibly keep

under so much dirt.         

Reviews

[sayed Mudasir Ali]

I adore your artistic hand in this poem , imagery and flow is amazing through out the poem and you got a great control over the meter which is hardest part in the poetry.

My favourite lines are ``The petals

caught the wind,

drifted slowly

and came

to rest

atop my Mother's

wooden box.

I wondered,

vacantly,

how long

they could

possibly keep

under so

much dirt.

Amazing lines

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thank you so much for your kind review. I appreciate you reading and sharing your thoughts! :)

[Traci]

This is the first piece of yours I've read and I am thoroughly impressed. The imagery, emotions and flow is amazing, a story within the poem, which is not only read but felt. Great job, definitely looking forward to reading more from you.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thank you so much! :)

[A. Amos]

This is pure elegance in write...good job

[Kristina Moulaison]

thanks! I appreciate that!

[Mark]

Sometimes poetry in motion is NOT the greatest combination, especially while driving. But I suppose I needn't tell you that. You have told me, and in an extremely literary manner. Very well written!

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thank you Mark...I appreciate that!

[Donald Meikle]

What a concept of using peripheral vision
It's like what kind of bird was that?
in add
But controlled

[Kristina Moulaison]

Yes! Thanks much!

[Frieda P]

I love how you seem to always incorporate dancing within your poetry, you have me right there.

Reminded me of, 'objects In the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are' Imagery here is off the charts and I adore that last stanza, why have I stayed away so long....outstanding read Misty.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thank you Freida! I've been gone myself. :) Had never noticed the dancing thing. You're right!

[Frieda P]

I love to dance so I noticed it right away, my pleasure Misty!

[Creepy Swine Guy]

I first notice, even before I read, the structural difference, one part from another. My mind is on alert. "Something changes there." I think. The first stanza seems clear to me, though not so much to the narrator. A memory, a memory of a traumatic collision. Perhaps the droplets triggered the memory ... perhaps they are a part of it. Regardless, the second stanza speaks of something enormous in it's impact, something that needs blocking out. It cannot be directly faced.

As we change formats going into S3, I am braced. "Something changes here," I am reminded. This is a memory too, but it seems most clear ... terribly clear. I, the reader, cannot help but associate this awful memory with the ones before. The story begins to crystalize.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thanks so much for this thoughtful review. Very helpful to see what people are thinking when they read. I appreciate it!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is like a really good allegory...could just be someone daydreaming, watching the drop on the glass, and then the impact of the crash, the blacking out...and then an emily dickinson moment...as the poet writes from the perspective of the dead person in the casket.

but on the other hand..we have to keep a peripheral eye out, because we might miss a lot in life...we often just stare straight ahead and plunge without thinking...

it could create an impact that will shatter our windshield of life...and put us in a dark box, very much alone.

this is a really good write...and the last part is like a poem in itself, almost an addendum to the previous two stanzas.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thanks so much Jacob! I always love your feedback and assessments. You had me at "Emily Dickinson moment". ..geez! I'm not worthy. Really good thoughts here. Thanks!

[Pete Langley]

I need to say more. The all pervading invasion of the black cloud of desolation caused by sudden terror or loss can send us over the edge of sanity. To me , this piece describes the inbuilt defence mechanism of our minds to cope. Your perception is acute, Misty. P.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thank you...you are absolutely right about what's happening here. I really appreciate your thoughts!