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Knitted
| Open Poetry #48 |
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Knitted |
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Nicole Senior Member
since 1999-06-23
Posts 1835Florida 
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he rode the foothills, just as deftly as she would allow her thoughts to travel in that direction. she would think of it, see the contour of the S, like a sleep-turned hip; exposed and content. sometimes she would laugh at that, dripping happy sounds like a faucet. on good days, it was a waterfall of sound; those were freedom days, wild in every direction. most days, though were anchored in the sandy clay loam at her feet. she was nothing but a ball of yarn, a tangle of wool and color; resting in his palm. he would knit her sweaters and scarves, or mittens for her small hands. and would mouth life words at her, warming the weary for a time. her good days could never keep up; not with the hills or the mountains, and part of her died knowing what it was like to be free. |
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| © Copyright 2012 Nicole Williams - All Rights Reserved | |||
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ice Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404Pennsylvania |
I love your story/poems...this is a very good one, like they all are. But these last lines, these last lines. Are close to my personal thoughts about charging at life...and paying the cost for sometimes riding too fast. "her good days could never keep up; not with the hills or the mountains, and part of her died knowing what it was like to be free." But dying a little each time I feel true freedom...in the "hills and mountains" where I feel especially alive, is far better than dying while watching T.V. Kinda got off your topic point...but poems send me on personal journeys sometimes.. This one took me there..... " |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
What a contemplating piece of work, Nicole. The riding free through the foothills toward her, and she, waiting, knowing she was anchored to herself. I thoroughly liked this, and my interpretation probably is way off, but that is how I read it to mean. At a cocktail party, one woman said to another, |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas |
The first stanza is my favorite - such oneness there. So enjoy reading you. j. |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Deeply captivating, dear Nicole. Ahhh, the heights of wild freedom in love! Fantastic poem. Margherita |
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JL Member Ascendant
since 2004-04-01
Posts 6128Texas, USA |
"she would think of it, see the contour of the S, like a sleep-turned hip; exposed and content. sometimes she would laugh at that, dripping happy sounds like a faucet." Very nice writing, Ms. Nicole. Reminded me of being in a hospital. Actually my thoughts were all over the place. I enjoyed the journey. JL  Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul,and with all your mind. Love your neighbor as yourself. |
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Dark Stranger Member Patricius
since 2001-03-19
Posts 13631West Coast |
Got Power? Now what? [This message has been edited by Dark Stranger (02-08-2012 07:48 AM).] |
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Nicole Senior Member
since 1999-06-23
Posts 1835Florida |
Ice - That's the tricky part isn't it? Living and letting part of you (probably not so healthy a part of you) die in the process and letting go of that. Thank you so much for the reply. Jerry - I always look forward to your interpretations. She's definitely anchored to herself; she's got roots as deep as they go. Thank you Jimmy - And I you, my friend. Thanks! Margherita - Thank you, too dear JL - I think one of my other poems reminded you of a funeral, too...we seem to be developing a trend here.  Thank you for letting me know your thoughts.D - I won't claim to be bright enough to know what that means, but thanks for replying. |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California |
I found this to be quite warming, in its own reflective way... yet caught the melancholy in it as well. I can certainly relate to the gifts of memory you've presented here. Michael |
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