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Open Poetry #48
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palms of the backside road
| Open Poetry #48 |
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palms of the backside road |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
She held her hand until her hands became a small part of her dresses white fabric It was winters brittle message the carnage that fell from the sky like the fall of the angels that used to rise from the ground and take their hearts onto the wooden laden floor Those small hands with her eyes like a ravens soft stare in the middle of the trees palm The palm tree the man who stared and never gave an inch to the perished fields of the western sky Her little hands could foil the grounds soiled hand but now she's losing her fallen side and her stomach is losing its empty hand She used to hold the bottom of her feet with the silent ride of a million sighs The way a woman used to hold her hair under the bright side of a little prairies backside It was here that her mother began to see the end of the roads end but for that little girl her fate forged its way towards another open road. |
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| © Copyright 2013 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
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BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
Always so many thoughts to ponder and so much to breathe in! So good to read you Mr Tomer. |
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Lighthousebob Member Elite
since 2000-06-14
Posts 4725California |
Though still filled with terrifying metaphor, i.e. "the carnage that fell from the sky," my interpretations being "tornadoes" of the South and/or Midwest or angels being cast out of heaven, but, still, this poem seemed quite the contrast from the last for it held, ahead, in the future, "another open road." Enjoyed!  |
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