The bridge
I'll walk your
rickety tree house bridge to the moon.
The frayed jute rails are comforting in the roughness
against the give and sway,
gives some form to fear.
But I can never get Florida to work
and as long as you have some snacks up there
I can be brave. The old oaks here have seen
so much. Do they see it all in time lapse?
Is 150 years a flash? Such storms, their
brothers cut down for lots.
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Author's Note
I saw Red Fez is having a submissions drive. Get thee...go. It reminded me they'd been so kind to publish this childlike poem - wow, a couple of years ago now.
Other stories by Sara Fitzpatrick Comito
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This expands beautifully.*
No bumps. The wonderful phrasing makes this poem work, Sara. The imagery throughout is just right. I like.
Yes, very much like the phrasing and odd juxtapositions of words. "The frayed jute rails are comforting in the roughness" is a wonderful, wonderful line. Nice work *
Something about this reminds me of Moonrise Kingdom. Have you seen it? *
Magical *
*
Oh, yeah.*
**
If this be "childish" I ain't never gonna even try to do any derivative verse ever, ever again! *
You folks are too damn sweet. Thanks for reading.
Charlotte, I have not seen Moonrise Kingdom, but I just found the trailer. How did I miss this? I will watch. Thank you.
Beautiful, Sara. The composition, especially makes it all the more magical.
A tree gives a platform to tree thoughts. Quite a passage. :) I like the movement from personal to general yet intimate.
Yeah *
"The frayed jute rails are comforting in the roughness"
Nice!
Nice and compact--a nifty little poem.
takes me on a journey
Real poetry. *
I feel like it could be a song as well as a poem. The line "But I can never get Florida to work" has that kind of mental stickiness, it stays with the reader and it replays.
*