- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Last Straw
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A useless walk at 3:00 a.m.
opens up a place
I had thought closed; and suddenly
shared moments, apparently forgotten,
strain the fabric of calm appearances.
Sometimes, it takes nothing
to trigger
a deluge of feeling,
a flood of tears,
an ocean of desolation.
The past becomes present,
the wound as raw
as when it first gaped open,
like the maw of Hell
inside my heart.
Absence becomes presence,
tearing away
at the flesh of memory,
leaving me exposed
and floundering in grief.
- COMMENTS
greenmountaineerover 8 years agoI forgot. I didn't think the last line was necessary, Dawn. It seemed to me pretty obvious the devastation, and the image suggested by "floundering" ran up against this image I had of you in a state of fugue, I.e., numb, motionless.
Nonetheless, great poem.
greenmountaineerover 8 years agoGreat diction
"The past becomes present.....
the maw of hell....
Absence becomes presence."
I liked the world play of present and presence and how they're tied together phonetically, but the real knot is that killer middle line.
I hit the 4 button by mistake; my apologies if ratings matter to you; definitely a 5 IMO.
