[untitled]

Hanging

                                                        I read his poem today
and was left hanging.
He pulled me in with gorgeous imagery.
I could smell the ocean,
the scent of fish in the air,
feel the cold breeze
and the brief bursts of warmth
from the soon to set sun.
I could even feel the pull of the line
and his ambivalence of the sport.
Then he wrote a line
about a meteor shower,
one simple brief line
and that was the end.
It was like coitus interruptus.
What did it look like?
How did it feel to be watching it?
Was it a metaphor ?
A holy moment of revelation?
Did his toes curl?
So I decided to write this
as a poetic kick in the a*s
because I know it wasn't meant
to end there.
Some things must go on
if only to extend their beauty.

Reviews

[Jeanmarie Flaherty]

"Did his toes curl?"

You are, to every extent of the word, an artist. Not just in your writing, but your thoughts. The detail needed, the ideas processed, only the deepest could wonder the simplest.

You do the same to your readers, my Dear...at least this one.


love.me.