Leaving the wheat with the chaff. This is not your mother’s poetry.
i left the only tracks in the snow
the only heart beating in the world
why wont the moon come back?
and time kept pushing my sails
like a robot.
December 24th, 2007 at 02:45:34 AM
I love this. That middle line was so unexpected (especially in terms of becoming so present/immediate as opposed to in the past), my heart jumped when I read it. And the last line as well caught me off guard, feeling so modern in juxtaposition to the nature imagery, in such a resolute and resounding way.
In an effort to reinvigorate my image on this site, in lieu of my current abhorrent dry spell, I’ve taken to reposting old poems hidden away in some strange places to here.
I’m glad you liked it. It’s from 2007. I was much different back then (yet of exactly the same, of course).
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