Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Immersion

I think like a river flows
All
Down
Hill
That flow through murky trenches,
those places where I hide
That is my self-made prison.
I hung a painting on the wall there
and my wet suit on the hook,
so I am home.

14 comments:

  1. So descriptive, I know this place well.

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  2. Your last three lines encapsulate a intriguing twist and I enjoy the employment of shape in the flowing down of thoughts. Great write!

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  3. All of us hide in those dark places .... from time to time. Lovely writing.

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  4. I love it, especially the closing lines!

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  5. it is really cool how you dropped the home image right there in the river. perfect immersion, and subtle and compact. great write.

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  6. This poem really moved me. Bittersweet... and the prison that's made of murky water. Darkly fabulous. Amy

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  7. Aqualung my friend, you've written a twisty little nightmare here. I like it.

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  8. Oh, this is just excellent. I want to stand up and clap!!

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  9. it's interesting to be immersed in the flow .......

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  10. eeek, at least you took the wetsuit off. :)

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  11. my skin is my wetsuit, except when the water's just too cold. i've hung my wetsuit here, too.

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  12. Oh, those murky waters...
    I love the depth of your voice
    Well done
    so chilling

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