crossing lines
half-awaken, beside the door
through the velvet veins
i don’t see your shade anymore
so let’s throw the reins
half-awaken, beside the door
through the velvet veins
i don’t see your shade anymore
so let’s throw the reins
hissing pines
cold wood
under my parched hands
-
i started writing this in the fall of 2009. i added a line today and decided to post it anyway.
3 megjegyzés:
This has some beautiful word combinations - "velvet veins", "hissing pines", "throw the reins", "parched hands" - lovely sounds. The image of standing at the door adds to the mood. Very nice.
I feel the force of layers here. Much beneath the weight of words.
thank you Karen and Jason for reading and commenting this particular poem.
i somehow felt some strange motivation to honor and acknowledge what justin sparrow means, ot meant to me, although i have to admit that it is still a bit unclear.
thanks anyway :)
the photo was made in Holland and pictures a private during WW II, and the only relation between him and js is that both are soldiers and in some way strong and innocent victims.
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