one
steady hand
kneads our nape
where a boulder's heat
is borrowed yet magnified
the shape of its ache polished
shoulder smooth with spilt regret
from a lifetime's dream that
tears were all cried out
ending as though
they never
began
vi.2011
I can't recall ever having written a shaped poem before. Though still leaning towards regarding the form as a contrivance, I'm curiously satisfied with this.
ReplyDeleteI've been wanting to expand my stylistic boundaries, so I guess this fits that bill. It's a long way from being a Double Etheree, but a pleasingly symmetrical lozenge nonetheless. And it does hint at having something to say ...