Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Neighborhood

The circle whose boundary marked
the edge of the world
held us within.

Outside the circle were the
dangerous places, raging
waters and trees so tall
as to touch the sky,
and sometimes the sky,
it fell.

Our particular magic in that circle
we called up with ratty pieces of
rope, and bits of chalk, a skip and a
hop, some scribbles, and
a high-pitched song
in a language spoken only
by the ones within the circle.

2 comments:

  1. this is cool--I like the reversal of poetic expectation by describing the horror of massive nature encroaching on a safe circle of culture.

    I think you would benefit from playing with line more--like saying simple "fell" instead of "it fell" and grouping the thought into a continuous clause. likewise I think you only have to mention the circle once an we get te image--too many mentions seems awkward.

    I also love the close sounds of "chalk" " skip" & "hop".

    good stuff

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