Poem before Video Store
Last night was full of little fists
and
another state filled with foreignors
and one
elusive love.
He was every age and
I made pasta at the festival
absentmindedly put everything I had
into the pot.
Searching for him
every hour
everywhere.
Searching
for what?
Tilted windmills
toppled windmills
lies and deceptions
perfectly rendered?
My straw hat was returned to me
by his mother.
She smiled and I was glad.
But really
morning is never
so charitable.
and
another state filled with foreignors
and one
elusive love.
He was every age and
I made pasta at the festival
absentmindedly put everything I had
into the pot.
Searching for him
every hour
everywhere.
Searching
for what?
Tilted windmills
toppled windmills
lies and deceptions
perfectly rendered?
My straw hat was returned to me
by his mother.
She smiled and I was glad.
But really
morning is never
so charitable.
|
4
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1031 views
7 comments |
63 words
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Author's Note
Last night's dream went on and on.
Other stories by Phoebe Wilcox
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Intensely visual poem that has its tastes and smells and noises in the right places, and wrenching, and loved how you ended this too
*
Thanks, Susan. Hey, how do I know who is marking my things as favorites? Some people thanked me for doing that but how did they know I did it? My kids tell me I'm not good with technology!
Thanks, Susan. Hey, how do I know who is marking my things as favorites? Some people thanked me for doing that but how did they know I did it? My kids tell me I'm not good with technology!
Yes, Phoebe those morning are really hard.
You never cease to amaze.
what a great first line, I love it...this is lovely, Phoebe...*
Good form, Phoebe. I like this piece. Interesting movement with the lines.
really nice, i love the windmill repetition, and He was every age...
so good.