Thursday, June 21, 2012

If I stood

If I stood at the edge
with my throat dry
and paltry
as a mackerel

If I stood there
with a bottle
So common
that I had to
run from it

If I stood at the edge
hips wide as a barrow
neck narrow
as a

If I stood
at the whistling edge

Then would I
angle my love
And my anger too
into that brown blown

Toes curled
making a fluted wish:

That she who
this swept hollow bottle
would not
have to start

Written for Real Toad, Message in a Bottle


Kerry O'Connor said...

I like the way your words flow with such ease down the page, always leading us on to the next thought, until the final point is made. Thank you for participating on Real Toads.

Aayushi Mehta said...

Gorgeous. And you say it all in those last few lines. Loved the metaphoric descriptions.

Anonymous said...

nice flow....yes!!

Helen said...

The bottle terminology is awesome!!!

SandyCarlson said...

I am thinking of how I would empty that bottle to put a message in. The sorrow, the hope. Together.

Susie Clevenger said...

Love how this travels from verse to the ending..

Ella said...

I love your message and the curled toes and thoughts all caress us into the edges of your voice!