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Click herepromise of a controlled burn
paper tight twisted,
trenches dug
with underbrush trimmed
you keep your cool.
splintered vines wind between
and the peel of birch bark reminds
us of our way as we hide
among the ghosts of the forest,
eating haiku sandwiches
I like lovers light brown crisp
caramelized on the end of a stick
inside liquid melts
knowing when to pull back
before sugar fires carbon
black, bitter, useless
and you like it raw
dipped in warm
or pulled to taffy
between fingers
onto tongue
always, always with the promise
of a controlled burn
ever eat roasted marshmellows with my kids again! Yikes! Well done, understated, "controled".
I read your comment on my "It's a Bug's Life" piece and had to read something of yours. You out-do me by a heap, girl! Well done. And with regards to your question about forest being in quotes, well i actually was in the forest when I wrote it, but the forest was a typical southern california forest, with not many trees, more deserty. Back-East girl, I am. You're the second person to comment on the quotes, so I will remove them. And work on something else today, fueled by people reading and COMMENTING (good or bad) on what I do.
I do like it ... raw, delectable.
Left me seared, uncertain if more over your words here than my imaginations over the woman who wrote them.
this poet seems comfortable making readers twitch.
like knowing how simple it is to amaze, so delicate an art
even flung paints dripping to the commands of chance ripped off.