|
So wonderful. Perhaps one day, when I am not so full of sleep, I will tear these apart and see what falls out.
Some of my favorite lines:
Isabel Gone
You were a murderess too
Bittersweet in my hand
This orange Monarch
Died young
Getting rough out here.
The cicadas of late summer are silent.
Their crisp skins, strewn around
mixed with acorns,
lifeless leaves.
^ when I was a child, I'd go around the neighbourhood in late August collecting the remains of the cicadas. I liked to think that they were fairy shells, despite how ugly some of the skins can be.
Fault for the Fall
How do you expect us to act
With such a wicked Mother?
What a perfect way to end. I love the connection that this poem, especially, makes between humanity and nature.
Your poems make me want to go walking. They're serene and thoughtful, hopeful and honest. Some of the best I have read all year.
__________________
who am I to refuse the universe?
-Leonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers
|