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
channel
If I stood
at the whistling edge
Then would I
angle my love
And my anger too
into that brown blown
bottom
Toes curled
making a fluted wish:
That she who
retrieves
this swept hollow bottle
would not
have to start
again.
Written for Real Toad, Message in a Bottle
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7 comments:
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.
Gorgeous. And you say it all in those last few lines. Loved the metaphoric descriptions.
nice flow....yes!!
The bottle terminology is awesome!!!
I am thinking of how I would empty that bottle to put a message in. The sorrow, the hope. Together.
Love how this travels from verse to verse...love the ending..
I love your message and the curled toes and thoughts all caress us into the edges of your voice!
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