In a message dated 09.01.03 12:39:43 PM, [log in to unmask] writes:
<< like Abraham
knife poised
for a voice that never came,
at least for me. >>
Love this stanza.
You might want to look at the gerunds below; could they be made into action
verbs?
Wanting to shine light into high corners
I embraced these absorbing absences,
obeying orders in borrowed plumes.
Stealing bread where I could.
Only once did I dare,
dismantling God at the kitchen table, over coffee.
It seemed so repellent, such wanting.
Waiting with driven heart
I really like the theme of this poem; very fresh.
kol tuv, Ryfkah
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