Introduction

[scorpiomoon]

I was a poet, once almost ready
to fill my old shoes, pick up my pen
deliver a message to old friends
we will meet soon, know each other again
for the first time

this opening is
moving a door closed so long the hinges rusted
so long the paper faded and the words bled backward
toward an idea of why
why love dies and returns
why it sounds like the ocean cries
for a lover whose kisses are gone
or for children whose parents forgot them
inside a hot car on a hot day
gone. one last breath
is a giant pause of stones and shells
drawn to the bottom and raised
again to shore

I was a poet, once before
the earth was new
soil began to lay down
one thin layer on another spreading
waiting for seed
this one
will sprout

[eccentrichild]

Very moving and the imagery is heart quenching and lovely. I am going to post "Lake of Loss", a gift to the tragic comedies that we allow to bleed us...Lauri...

I was a poet, once almost ready
to fill my old shoes, pick up my pen
deliver a message to old friends
we will meet soon, know each other again
for the first time

this opening is
moving a door closed so long the hinges rusted
so long the paper faded and the words bled backward
toward an idea of why
why love dies and returns
why it sounds like the ocean cries
for a lover whose kisses are gone
or for children whose parents forgot them
inside a hot car on a hot day
gone. one last breath
is a giant pause of stones and shells
drawn to the bottom and raised
again to shore

I was a poet, once before
the earth was new
soil began to lay down
one thin layer on another spreading
waiting for seed
this one
will sprout