Friday, April 04, 2008

His Little Girl

translucent memories
quiver
when I hear you speak

little earthquakes and
rivers
form inside my head

bringing down like buildings
falling
till I’m drowning but not dead

hear me mourning, morning I will be
calling
on my God to chase away the

translucent memories

8 comments:

  1. This is beautiful, Sara.
    Translucent memories
    quiver

    An immediate hook into the poem. Your voice is delicate and nuanced.

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  2. i agree with christine on the delicacy of the word choices,,, but i also get the feeling that these are not good memories...
    "falling
    till I’m drowning but not dead"...

    i have to wonder if the memories are being blocked out and thus just fragmented whisps of them are there to catch you off guard... very interesting piece..

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  3. Thanks for continuing to visit me even when I didn't have the energy or drive to reciprocate. Truly appreciate your support. I'm back and feeling better.
    Peace,
    Susan

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  4. I felt incredible pain and longing in this poem. A thought provoking piece for me.

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  5. one for many to identify with. well written sad poem

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  6. This piece reminds me of a little girl who'd call on her God in the morning for comfort after a night with a monster in her bed. (mourning/morning)("drowning" in her tears..?)

    Very heavy piece for me, but very very well written, Sara.

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  7. yes i like 'translucent memories', very nice.

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  8. I am feeling so inspired by your words

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