Maryann,

interesting poem, ....... Not sure about the song of the oriole sharing the
holes of the narrator's ears with the tears, however. Also looks like a
typo: a/its in the last line.

BW

Colin
----- Original Message -----
From: "Maryann Hazen Stearns" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Monday, February 02, 2004 2:59 PM
Subject: The Poem With No Title


> Hello there friends,
>
> here's a new one for c&c:
>
> ~*~
>
> The Poem With No Title
>
> I see the curved edge of the shovel
> as if memory were a personal cinematheque
> Hear the dry ground protest against
> the force of blade
> the metallic snack of shale
> that jars arms
> sets teeth on edge
>
> I can still feel the spine protest
> as foot levers sod
> over and over until the hole opens
> wide enough and the thought
> that it would never
> could never
> be deep enough never deep enough
> to hold this pain
>
> I see feet walk the path
> toward a crooked gray house
> with porch steps worn down in the center
> See the hand pull the screen door
> hear the screech of hinges
> like the lid of a coffin
> reluctant to open
>
> The feet plod up stairs
> enter a bedroom
> The back feels a quilted mattress
> The bones fall into place
> Through the open window
> the song of an oriole
> shares the holes of my ears
> with the tears
> creeping from my eyes
> and the sound of the bird
> changes to the ocean
> trapped inside a its shell
>
>
> ~*~
>
> Cheerwell, Mary :O)
>
>
> =====
> Good Cheer & Be Well,
>      Maryann Hazen Stearns
>
> "Under The Limbo Stick" http://www.geocities.com/Faerhart/
>
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