Open Poetry #49 |
Thought Ribbons. |
Cari Member Posts 411 Englnand |
No fire, we are too close Night on the high Veldt Under the stars Cold comfort of a second-hand blanket Stained with the left over sweat ~ On my back I play a game of star pictures Joining up the diamond dots A horses head, near perfect But God never finished the job ~ Did I close my eyes? A kick on my thigh tells me so Van Kleeck turns his head Spits a stream of tobacco juice Through broken teeth ~ The last Stagg Just an hour till move out The A47 is old A hand me down relic Though her voice still speaks ~ The blush of dawn in the east A Chestnut Wattle-eye welcomes the day I wait till the orange rim rises A gift of ten minutes oblivion To the blanket bundles ~ Memories fade She turns from a broken dream Restless arms claim possession And in the English morning I hear the bark of the three legged dog 8 8 Stagg is army slang for a period of guard duty, usually a two hour stint. * * Off topic—is anyone interested in Short stories? I believe I’ve found a board but like so many it seems to be pretty dead. I have posted a couple and would like to read some of yours. Their damn good practise for anyone to hone the skills necessary for attempting the long haul in writing a novel. If you can’t hold the readers attention for a thousand words you don’t have much chance to do that for a hundred thousand and more. Just a thought. |
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