Cindy, I really appreciate your sending this to the list, and having a
chance to look at and hear it. I was thinking about an interesting shift
that you might consider, also:
Here in her garden, the buffering dark
secures me; smoke on my breath
traces languid forms, that scatter against plants
bloated white with floodlight
Above, the folding net of stars
perfect, immutable, untouchable
______
What you have here is something that intrigues, minus "talking about it."
You might think about allow the poem itself to tell us (possibly you would
wish to add more along the vein of what is shown above).
Best regards from Phoenix, USA :)
Sheila Murphy
On Wed, Jan 14, 2009 at 7:51 AM, Cindy Lee <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Hello to the List and belated '09 Best Wishes to you all.
>
> Due to ridiculous busyness and illness, it's been an awfully long time
> since
> I've attempted to write - anything. The stillness of illness made me
> realize that I must.
>
> Unfortunately, as will be much evident, I seem to have forgotten more
> 'rules' than I knew.
>
> I would really appreciate any comments you might have about what needs to
> be
> done to it. Yes - even screwing it into a ball and starting again.
>
> Huge thanks as ever,
>
> Cindy
>
> Snap
>
> I hear her, laughter and charm,
> playing to her house of unexpected friends
>
> Here in her garden, the buffering dark
> secures me; smoke on my breath
> traces languid forms, that scatter against plants
> bloated white with floodlight
>
> Above, the folding net of stars
> perfect, immutable, untouchable
>
> And I know
>
> That those stars will stay with me alone
>
> That in her bed,
> they have already taken their places
> between us.
>
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