Saturday, June 6, 2015

Rock Point, 3 A.M.


An electric path--
To be what one was
At trailhead in
Night-sea crossing--
Under the moon
Between black crashes,
Incandescent corridor
Of not-to-be and west
Away from memory.
Something takes flight,
Swift, silver.
Rest of me turns east
And out of night.

12 comments:

  1. What a dazzling, albeit frightening, picture.

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    Replies
    1. You're right. I guess lighting makes a big difference, so I added a photo of the painting where it usually hangs and looks far less sinister. Thanks Mimsie!

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  2. Haunting! I love
    "Under the moon
    Between black crashes,
    Incandescent corridor
    Of not-to-be and west
    Away from memory."
    A whole story there.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks Elizabeth. Sometimes staying up late with the sea sorts things out for me.

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    2. PS: Nancy Herman (the author of All We Left Behind) left a comment for you on my Victorian Scribbles blog. Her first inspiration for the book was your poetry teacher.

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    3. Thanks, Elizabeth. Sure appreciate the alert and left a reply at "...Fourth Wish."

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  3. Brilliant! As I read this I can visualize myself on a ship.

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    Replies
    1. Most kind. It is a good metaphor you visualize there.

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  4. Lovely as always, Geo. I think it's been a while since I've visited. Glad to be back.

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