A little heat rises
from a tube of dried leaves clenched
between my lips. The breath
is mine. The fire too.
The sad, distracted smoke?
All you.
-- Mar Walker, curmudgeon
Love is a figment. Figs are preferable. But I hate figs too.
The prompt was to find a metaphor for your current love. What current love I might ask....The photo was taken at a high school play. It's a little over exposed, sort of like love.... Just for the record, I don't smoke either.
The prompt was to find a metaphor for your current love. What current love I might ask....The photo was taken at a high school play. It's a little over exposed, sort of like love.... Just for the record, I don't smoke either.
In a Deanna Troi moment, I will say, "I sense cynicism!" Hang in there. It will bowl you over one day.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem.
ReplyDeleteI like this poem. Lots.
ReplyDelete"...sad, distracted smoke?"
Good work!
LOVE LOVE LOVE this, Mar!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteInteresting that we both sort of had a fire theme going on today.
ReplyDelete