The pillars closed in tighter around us.
The pier seemed to stretch further away.
On we walked; were we even conscious?
It was quiet; a heavy stillness grew.
Interrupted only by the rain,
Mimicking the chaos in his head.
I could see it in his face, his eyes.
The lines of worry, the scars of emotion.
The structure of sadness, taking over.
The rain kept his head down; kept me alive.
The wind bit him; yet only shook me.
I wished I could help him calm the chaos.
The edge of the pier drew nearer.
The wind picking up, whipping our coat back.
Weary his hands were, pulling it back in.
I gazed up at him, as he stared outward.
Standing tall, bearing the burdens of many.
I wondered how much more he could take on,
For even the strongest reach a limit.
The water below could be heard now.
Vibrating the wood upon which he stood;
Balancing out the static of the rain;
A white noise keeping the chaos at bay;
A frequency of peace, echoing through.
His face cleared, his eyes closed, he smiled.
Motions reflected in mine as I lay.
He looked at me, a face true to his own.
I am but a reflection of appearance,
Yet here in this place of stillness I knew,
A measure of peace, he had found again.
Hey Cassady!
ReplyDeleteI really like how, in this poem, you create a whole story--a narrative--in response to a single image. I think you we're very imaginative in doing this, and I think your work emphasizes just hope much meaning can be conveyed by a picture. I also find your phrasing elegant and think the language flows well.
~Ayla Rogers
I liked how in your first lines you used the perspective of the pier and translated that into a sort of claustrophobic visual imagery
ReplyDelete- Joey
+....
ReplyDeleteWeary his hands...... And lines above I love!!