From the beginning even the smallest dreams
were a half-turned terror that might never end.
Secret hiding places shelter
the fallout of war: the sound
of breath,
the throbbing cheek,
the flowered dress drenched with rain.
A frozen heart is without failures,
without fight, a silence
of not asking questions.
In my memory
you recognize me by touch,
inch by inch.
A rusty fan blows the stench
of sweat from my sheets.
13
favs |
1234 views
17 comments |
71 words
All rights reserved. |
Recently published in The Poetry Storehouse
Love that last stanza, C. **
Yes.*
Great opening couplet. Love the imagery. *
And the dangling memory hanging in the white space! I like this poem builds and moves to that final image.*
Feels light and heavy at the same time, somehow. I love the image of "the flowered dress drenched with rain" and how that sounds to my ear. *
Incrementally wraps me in the horror of helplessness. *****
The separation between here & there, self & other, past & and the moment are sharp. Good poem.
""In my memory//
you recognize me by touch,/
inch by inch.
A rusty fan blows the stench/
of sweat from my sheets.""
Nice.
Thank you all for reading and for your kind comments. It means a lot!
Love touch of the rusty fan... implications of tropic splendor.
*****
*,Charlotte. I really like your close:
"A rusty fan blows the stench of sweat from my sheets."
Great capture.*
Thank you James Lloyd, David, and Amanda.
"the throbbing cheek,
the flowered dress drenched with rain."
"
A rusty fan blows the stench
of sweat from my sheets."
Solid images that print like letters.
I like all the tensions here; heavy flowered dress; fan blowing stench *
I really enjoyed reading this aloud, how there is this duplicity of tension and ease somehow in careful word choices. I also really liked your enjambment. And the standout lines previously mentioned above. ***
Simple, beautiful honesty in this poem. And that second stanza!
'of breath,
the throbbing cheek,
the flowered dress drenched with rain.'
It has imagery and emotion. And is beautiful.