Open Poetry #8 |
awakening |
jbowie Member
since 2000-02-18
Posts 135BANGOR (that OR) ME |
under the gaze of a bleak white sun I slowly scuff through withered grass the day turning as cold as the memories when I first felt the touch of his hand the wingbeats of doves graciously render the sounds of the moment to white noise where my coughs and soft cries remain dark in the bedroom |
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© Copyright 2000 James Bowie - All Rights Reserved | |||
SEA
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 2000-01-18
Posts 22676with you |
Jbowie~ I didn't understand (sorry) this but it read great and I liked it any way! -SEA Live,Love,Laugh :) ~SueB |
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Jamie Member Elite
since 2000-06-26
Posts 3168Blue Heaven |
Dare I give my take? It sounds like an unwanted advance. that being the case it had to be hard to pen. A good job. jamie Tu ne cede malis, sed contra audentior ito. - Virgil. "Yield thou not to adversity, but press on the more bravely". |
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