WORDS, a quadrille for d’Verse

Published January 29, 2018 by Nan Mykel

 

 

 

WORDS

My thin black words

on this cold white page

can’t breathe, won’t bleed,

don’t whimper in the dark;

impotent fossils, barren husks,

dropped spoor.

Not the real thing at all,

not the rustle in the weeds

nor the shrill screech

of the wild boar.

 

 

23 comments on “WORDS, a quadrille for d’Verse

    • Good to hear from you, too. Every time I g to my Media page I’m enjoying a copy of your eyes collage–or did I already tell you? I rear-ended smeone and totalled my car so I have more time for my blog (It’s like being snowbound, bu it’s no-car bound). Glad you liked the poem or, as they say on d’Verse, quadrlle.

      Like

  • Stunning …. the words just reach out and grab you, and you fall into the pleasure and pain of working through this …. but it reads like a manifesto, a call of the wild – how delightful 🙂

    Like

    • Yes, and for some of us in places we don’t want to see we only have to close the book. I have been extremely moved by things others write (or paint), but on my end there’s often frustration that I can’t manage to be heard. We can’t be in therapy all our lives, unfortunately.

      Like

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