i recall the tug
the inescapable call
of a perfect storm
my legs
paper cranes
tossed through glass
my soul did not flinch
yet i blinked twice
& in the distance
wild flickers coaxed
toothsome tribal timpani
it’s a jungle in here
There was a haunting beauty behind her eyes, beyond her sorrow, a beauty that found its way into one’s heart and led them home.
I can see those legs, like paper cranes, thrown through glass. (ouch!) Love the toothsome tribal timpani! So nice to see you, Rene.
ReplyDeleteAh a noisy head is the worst - well written poem
ReplyDeleteThis poem describes perfectly how I feel on some of those stormy days...love the imagery!
ReplyDeleteI love the "toothsome tribal tympany" ! Beautifully descriptive.
ReplyDeleteI think Donna gave the perfect comment...those stormy days are full of imagery, not all of it pleasant. I like 'toothsome tribal timpani.'
ReplyDeleteThat safe feeling of being inside being shattered as the storm breaks the window for you to join in the fun. A great poem.
ReplyDeleteThe tympani of flickers. A perfect description!
ReplyDeleteDeliciously descrptive.
ReplyDeleteLove the descriptive quality of your poem! Absolutely stupendous!
ReplyDeleteGreat imagery in this piece. You nailed that 'tug ... of a perfect storm' brilliantly. Awesome writing!
ReplyDeleteVivid! And I esecially like the throwaway last line.
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