His eyes are two hounds
In a strange yard
Driving at me under
The street light
Darkness wraps around.
I find it hard to know what they’ll do
If there is hunger or mischief
Only their hearts are full.
It is not speed that troubles me
But things hanging between their teeth:
Wind vane rusted to its base, duplicate keys
Calendar in one colour…
I fear these eyes, these energetic lives;
To save myself is to suffer them.
I wait for frost to stop their race
For heads to turn on awkwardness.
“My mother’s,” he says, in both hands
The band crowned with precious stone.
Wind vane rusted to its base, duplicate keys
Calendar in one colour…. great images…
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Good read…… I especially liked “My mother’s,” he says, in both hands
The band crowned with precious stone.
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Sometimes it is precious other times strangely insignificant to others but memories are often found in the most unlikely things.
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Beautifully written.
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The opening image and title really brings us straight into this story – superbly written
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What wonderful opening lines. An intriguing poem with a glorious closing.
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The whole piece is fantastic, but that first stanza got me really excited.
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Love the strong metaphor you start with… perfect illustration to give him character.
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That first stanza is so powerful….grips the reader right from the start!
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Those eyes, dark and mysterious drew me into finish the poem. I was not disappointed.
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Beautiful writing.
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Wow! From an unpredictable force of a man, a gift most loving.
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