Leaning against the damp cement wall,
creases line your face in the shape of the bricks.
A white Cadillac cruises past and the bass swells
up into your body and reverberates
down into your stomach.
You mourn the loss of something you never had.
It stirs those tears that never fall.
Watery puddles build inside your chest.
Stirring at odd moments when alone
in the dark.
Maybe it's a pebble
that sent ripples through to your heart.
And then you grip the railing beside you
and want to fall off a bridge into the icy
waters below. They surge and break
like you.
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3 comments:
Nice ending stanza! i like this one--is this thesis or post-thesis?
by the way, i heard you're reading at the torch reading on friday--can't wait to hear it!
oh i love that last line.
beautiful.
We must gather our post-thesis work for another Starbucks date. Those are becoming so essential to my encouragement as a writer and already they are ending so soon...but you and I, Amy, can still meet in the fall on Saturdays to talk writing and keep our poetry and stories up...we can't get discouraged in the face of student-teaching and stop our writing! =) And we will keep Renee updated on our newest writings and, I just thought of this, but we will all be teaching in some capacity in the fall, so we can all trade teaching stories as well--Renee with her undergrad creative writing classes, us with our high school English madness. It will be a great time for writing and stories.
P.S. I had a great morning with you and Renee! Sorry again that I was late!
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