Each word is a brick
obscuring my vision of you,
when I would use none
for this Cicada
on a string;
distilling
all
to the resounding hum
of knowing you are
there beyond
the wall I do not want
to be building,
whispering through
the chink, walking
through walls
weaving trees
climbing up through
a humid earth; flavouring
this cicada song
with breath,
knowing,
before words
and after
when I would use none.
08
5 comments:
Hello! Very cool poem
thanks :)
I've taken a fancy to the look of poems like this one: continuous, columnar, interspersed with one-word lines. I'm trying to write something like that, but I don't think it works as well as "Cicada."
David, thanks -did you post your poem? I'll check your blog.
I believe I've dismembered that abortive experiment and posted one or two Frankensteins of it recently. I appreciate the interest, Nicky.
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