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Night Fishing
| Open Poetry #49 |
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Night Fishing |
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Mistletoe Angel 
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
Night Fishing By: Noah Hibiscus Eaton 12/7/14 There's a side of you, everybody sees, of spanish coffee, duck faces and pajama parties, pegasons, clam digging, sprinkling Tabasco, on your ice cream... ...but most don't understand, the light in your eyes memories leave, how your face changes, in different lighting, the glistening line of sweat, just below your hair line, the girth on your left leg, the convolutions you defy... How you were put to the test, and didn't fall apart, how your character was structured, welded and shapeshifted into fine art, that nine-inch scar, on your left hip, from a rare birth defect, you now proudly brandish, saying: “Oh, I just wish others would read the story... ...it'd sure save me from a lot of explaining...” . . . They see you in your yoga pants, all bicycle kicks and Russian twists, leaning up against the Bosu ball, running off into the distance, your body's hearing, all that your mind says, hills are speedwork in disguise, and all excuses flunk the test... ...but most don't understand, the treacherous trails you've hit, the switchbacks that rival, those of the Romanian Carpathians, that run as steep, as the Black Dragon Ridge, that are as stormy, as the Bodele Depression... But you refuse to spare, the windstorms from the canyons, because you value the raw beauty, that they leave in their midst, the stadiums, are for standees, you don't want the day to run you, so your grace glides with blisters on your feet, saying: “Oh, they are a reflection of how I feel inside... I don't know how much time I have left, so I better play outside...” . . . Standing there with that long distance stare, of waiting for what will never come down, wondering how many eyes you have in your closet, I doubt any of us will ever find out, some say you're as soft like the cool grass of summer, some say you're as strong as the trunk of a tree, some say you're as warm as the desert sands at night, some say you're as tender as the branches of a sapling... ...all I know, is I could feel, my heart expand, that August night, when you asked: “Can I have this dance?”, and to gaze, into the seas of your eyes, to glimpse both the light, and the dark inside... ...oh, raw beauty can't be suppressed... ...and none of your scars, can make me love you less... . . . "If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other" Mother Teresa |
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latearrival Member Ascendant
since 2003-03-21
Posts 5499Florida |
You have not lost your touch. Excellent. Jo Perry |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
you don't want the day to run you, so your grace glides with blisters on your feet, saying: "Oh, they are a reflection of how I feel inside... This is very good and captivating, dear Noah. Margherita  |
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