Poetry Thursday

    . . . this week’s prompt is: Unfinished conversations.

Again this week, an older poem:

Speaking In Tongues

I try to find a heaven in my dreams,
some cloudy place where you are. 

How can it still be morning, when
I have been out here for so long?   

I am in a house I have come back to. 
Something is missing or broken. 

Looking everywhere, looking everywhere,
I am caught in a thickness of fear.

I make a nest in my hands of torn
cloth, and a bird settles into it. 

Snow falls from a bright sky, as if the moon
were shedding ashes of its own crisp light.

I want to talk with you one more time. 
If there was bitterness, it’s gone now. 

Comments

[twitche]

LOVE that last line! Very nice.

[Lynn]

I love these lines:

I make a nest in my hands of torn
cloth, and a bird settles into it.

[jenclair]

I particularly like the lines Lynn mentioned, and I like the overall feeling of Haiku...something about the imagery and the rhythm of the last two lines.

[endment]

I must join the chorus love the imagery of the nest in my hands

[GreenishLady]

I can't analyze the impact of this poem on me. I only know it touches a deep place. Speaks to my heart.

[bee]

this is incredibly moving. the imagery is so sharp and poignant.