I think this works better, Sharon. But maybe you still need to think on
it.
The poem as a whole kicks.
Doug
On 1-Nov-05, at 5:21 PM, SB wrote:
> On 11/1/05, Stephen Vincent <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>>> Now you ride your
>>> bike through the jungle, looking for you.
>>
>> I like this piece,SB. But I was jarred by this line,
>> the "looking for you" assumption of it. (?)
>>
>
> I think you may be right -- I've struggled with this line -- maybe
> this:
>
> The Day of the Dead
> 1 November 02005
>
>
> This morning I woke to the smell of winter,
> thinking of you searching for hope. Where
> are you looking? In the bodies of women
> who are strangers to you. In rice fields
> and temples; in classrooms and markets;
> in the dangerous sea. Now you ride your
> bike through the jungle, into the night.
> Though this valley is bare, the mountains
> hide in a thin veil of snow. If I set a place
> at my table for all of my dead, will they
> come? I am waiting for hope. I know you
> are there, but you are well out of sight.
>
>
> --
> ~ SB =^..^=
>
> http://www.sbpoet.com
>
>
Douglas Barbour
11655 - 72 Avenue NW
Edmonton Ab T6G 0B9
(780) 436 3320
The blank page
as merely an interval or
an intrusion. We could not rescue it
nor could we huddle, as if the page were
big enough.
Kathleen Fraser
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