Monday, December 20, 2010



Thataway. Farther. Further.
Keep walking. Yup, that’s it, keep going.

You know the territory here.
Are you concerned. It concerns you,

this place fits so snug into what
you expected. How to experience this

gridlock of verb tenses, hindsight
yanking on the needle of your compass.

Keep going, pass the post office,
past it. You passed it, actually, about a mile

or twenty back. I didn’t tell you
at the time. Because I didn’t want to hurt

your feelings. You are doing such a fine
job of navigating. I can’t take over for you

now, but I will help. You’re getting
warmer. Warmer. Hot. Hotter, hotter, burning,

excruciating solar heat. Whoops,
there go your wings. Melting. Burning. On fire.


  1. Boy would I love if someone guided me like that some days...hotter, hotter, hotter! You never run out! Amazing! xoxo

  2. You passed it, actually, about a mile

    or twenty back.

    This is fabulous writing, Hannah, love the voice in it.

    Merry holidays to you!

  3. Oh my word, I LOVE the ending to this. Icarus meets childhood games.

  4. "hindsight yanking on the needle of your compass."

    I love that line.

    It's wonderful hearing your voice read your own poems. Beautiful job Hannah.


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