You don't fish.
It isn't the river
calling you away.
You're not moved
by the rhythms
or rhymes of poets,
their metaphors giving
no cover for truths too
late exposed.
You don't eye her
as before you eyed
the full sum of all
the parts, the making
up and the going on
before the next time
becomes the next time.
Still, spring breaks
out in your heart
like magic, your lips
holding silent but in place
the words put down
on paper: how you fell
for what's come and gone,
then come close again.
© 2011 Maureen E. Doallas
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I offer this poem for the One Shot Wednesday event at One Stop Poetry, which each week invites poets to share, read, and comment on each other's work. Be sure to visit the site late Tuesday afternoon and every Wednesday for links to the many contributors' poems.
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16 comments:
Lovely Maureen.
Lovely Poem.
And spring rises, better late than never, in fields and in hearts.
I like the rhythm of this ...
Yes lovely.
There is spring and magic in other expressions than poetry! And then you manage to convey "his" with your own.
Maureen this poem touch something deep inside me as I go about my day and drawing attention to the issue of extracting natural gas using hydraulic fracturing. Thank you for your usual brilliance.
Terrill
i scrubbed the kitchen sink
now i am about to go to the the post office...
echoing terrill, you gave a sweet moment of love.
What I love so much about your poetry is that you leave spaces for the reader to place their hearts. That's what all great writing should do. Thank you.
It moves, taking you on a journey, with rhtythm and cadence. Excellent poem, Maureen.
A great use of direct address, especially when considering the lack of a poetic "Gestalt" so to speak. Also, many fine examples of wordplay and plays off the sound of lines.
katdish said it well. The form is graceful, breathes well. I read it outloud and it read so naturally. This would be one of my new favorites. :)
excellent cadence to this maureen...a rather enjoyable read...
...before the next time becomes the next time
I love the gracious words that could have been stronger more painful. This piece allows for failure and success
Beauty always exudes from your touch
Three readings and I don't believe I've fathomed all the nuance here, but the portrait is a finely drawn one, achingly so.
I gather there is something much deeper between words and stanza's here as Hedgewitch stated...the the parse and parcel of each line holds a myriad of meanings...that you leave for the reader to ponder...the sum and parts --being my favorite aspect...bkm
I enjoyed the gentle rhythm and soft sounds of this poem - I almost felt like I was in a rocking chair whilst reading, and soothed in soul.
many fine nuances here
Your work is like a fine sculpture, each curve seeming natural and the overall effect has delicate nuances that touch something and some place unnamed deep within. I'm always richer as a person having read your work. You're a magician!
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