Day 19: One Month of Magic
T, I think I’ve commented on this before, but your imagery is just so captivating, I always read it a second time, sometimes three. I love when poetry does that, wonderful!
Another very rough stanza in my sonnet-sestina. I know it doesn't make sense, but trying to see what the language is telling me:
I accept things I read in letters.
Beyond pleasantries and death, I trust
love threaded through like hoof prints of horses
among wind-tossed weeds. Fourteen
weeks since I heard from you. Your promises all water
under the ridge of a leaky roof, your texts—
never letters like the licks of dogs’
pink tongues—I look for pretty things
that don’t include you: friends?
missing like smudged towns and streams
on maps. Holding the queen
of hearts? I never loved
money. My family’s
advice can make me laugh or cry.
T, I think I’ve commented on this before, but your imagery is just so captivating, I always read it a second time, sometimes three. I love when poetry does that, wonderful!
Another very rough stanza in my sonnet-sestina. I know it doesn't make sense, but trying to see what the language is telling me:
I accept things I read in letters.
Beyond pleasantries and death, I trust
love threaded through like hoof prints of horses
among wind-tossed weeds. Fourteen
weeks since I heard from you. Your promises all water
under the ridge of a leaky roof, your texts—
never letters like the licks of dogs’
pink tongues—I look for pretty things
that don’t include you: friends?
missing like smudged towns and streams
on maps. Holding the queen
of hearts? I never loved
money. My family’s
advice can make me laugh or cry.