I agree with Robin, SB, and would extend upwards to include the preceding
two lines, beginning: With broad horizons and locusts sleeping in the
soil................"
The last two lines, particularly, are concentrated energy. I love to say
them and read them: "Seasons all our solitary suppers"
Judy
------
>I especially like the ending, the last four lines. Resonant and witty.
>
> Robin
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "SB" <[log in to unmask]>
> To: <[log in to unmask]>
> Sent: Monday, August 22, 2005 8:00 PM
> Subject: lots [poem]
>
>
> this is my lot
> we each have our own lot
>
> a lot is a sheaf of wheat
> from our father's field
>
> a lot is a grain of wheat
> from our mother's hand
>
> a lot is a stem of wheat
> shaped like a key
>
> a key to a room
> a skeleton key
>
> we each have our own room
> sometimes a corner of my room
>
> is a corner of your room
> sometimes it isn't
>
> some rooms are small & dank
> some are bright wheat fields
>
> with broad horizons and locusts
> sleeping in the soil
>
> the wife of lot
> looked back & now
>
> seasons all our
> solitary suppers
>
>
> --
> ~ SB =^..^=
>
> http://www.sbpoet.com
> http://sb.chatango.com/
> http://www.flickr.com/photos/sbmontana/
>
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