One Foot in front of the Other
And soon you'll be walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and the sun will go down
and the wolves will come out
and the moon will rise like a big gold spoon
and the sky will be a stew of storm clouds
the rain will whip
the trees will drip
the night will moan
then later still, an unbreakable
silence
will coax a memory of tears on a steering wheel.
Screen saver
life saver
squares and circles
so comforting.
Arms
I miss arms.
And all I have is a pair of legs
walking
walking
to God knows where
walking.
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and walking
and the sun will go down
and the wolves will come out
and the moon will rise like a big gold spoon
and the sky will be a stew of storm clouds
the rain will whip
the trees will drip
the night will moan
then later still, an unbreakable
silence
will coax a memory of tears on a steering wheel.
Screen saver
life saver
squares and circles
so comforting.
Arms
I miss arms.
And all I have is a pair of legs
walking
walking
to God knows where
walking.
|
6
favs |
1089 views
9 comments |
85 words
All rights reserved. |
Author's Note
The author has not attached a note to this story.
Other stories by Phoebe Wilcox
Tags
Comments
You must
log in
to post comments.
Probably lots of punctuation errors; will fix later; pls just ignore.
I like the pacing here, Phoebe. And the imagery. The form works for me. I don't think you need the word storm at the end of stanza one. ...a stew of clouds... is a wonderful image.
As for puncuation, I think you should omit the periods. I don't think they're needed.
I like this.
I imagine this is a personal poem, but it makes me think of the poor souls (most noticeable in a small town) who suffer from an uncontrollable compulsion to walk walk walk, all over town, all day and night. It appears to be the only relief they can find.
Very good poem, the repeat words hammer in the emotional underbelly
*
I agree with Sam. Leave punc. alone. Great loping drive to this! I like it lots. *
The sound of this, the rhythm, really works for me, Phoebe...love "the moon will rise like a big gold spoon"...gorgeous! *
will think of this everytime I take a walk. I can feel the pain.
Phoebe, I am out of breath, hearth in my throat reading this over and over. Fantastic.
Good poem, Phoebe. Agree with Sam's comments.
Go for a stronger ending. (Or just take out "to God knows where")
*