As a little boy, lazily swings at his shadow, the anger in the wind amazes even the grass. There he stays, beautiful and cold, as a woman’s stare. The hammock strings cut patterns, grass blade by grass blade. Just as his knotted hair seems to reach the perfect angle. Only there is no angle. Only the sight of muddled tree- tops, and shaky mountain-peaks.
"we shared our least favorite words in invisible ink." I especially liked this line, the way it sounds & the image that appears in my mind. The whole piece is wonderful in so many ways. Thank you for sharing :)
2 comments:
A Still in Time
As a little
boy, lazily swings
at his shadow,
the anger in
the wind amazes
even the grass.
There he stays,
beautiful and cold,
as a woman’s stare.
The hammock strings
cut patterns, grass
blade by grass blade.
Just as his knotted
hair seems to
reach the perfect
angle.
Only
there is no angle.
Only the sight
of muddled tree-
tops, and shaky
mountain-peaks.
"we shared our least favorite words in invisible ink." I especially liked this line, the way it sounds & the image that appears in my mind. The whole piece is wonderful in so many ways. Thank you for sharing :)
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