(From an Awakened Sleep)
pluck me from the charred grate
from the rusty barbed wire
bit by dried up bit
gather the particles
the blackened scale
and crust
cradle it in your hands like
stolen moon dust
relics of a lost life
then blow
|
13
favs |
1579 views
10 comments |
32 words
All rights reserved. |
Author's Note
I awoke from a dead sleep in the middle of the night with the first stanza full sprung in my head. I scrawled it on a piece of paper in the dark and went back to sleep.
The next day I finished it over the course of several hours. It began as one thing but ended up an entirely different thing and that just amazes me.
Other stories by Charlotte Hamrick
Tags
Groups
-
10+ Favs
Public group136 members
Comments
You must
log in
to post comments.
In excess of no thing.*
The opening stanza sets a high mark. Great tone and image. Especially like the phrasings throughout. Noting wasted here. *
Enjoyed every word, image, sensation.
Neat.
You love the words and the words love you. I can tell.
(I've lost so many, promising myself to remember them in the morning. You MUST write them down...)
Oh I love this! The attention to these tiny tiny bits of dust that mean something. And I like your author comment.
*
It feels like a vivid choreography of the voice.
wonderful, intense poem, Charlotte. *
Love the opening*
'like stolen moon dust.'
Sends me back.*