Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Shotgun

Shotgun

What kind of being
does our longing

create, cedar-cloaked
ghost clutching

at our knees, riding
shotgun, showing

us how the farthest-
away hills earn

the translucence
we keep draping them

with, even when
it keeps sliding off.

3 comments:

thea said...

'cedar-cloaked'... what a beautiful thought miss hannah....

thea.
xx

Semaphore said...

Beautiful poem... and what a gorgeous opening...

Maureen said...

Lovely, Hannah, especially the "cedar-cloaked" image.

I like your use of the word "translucence", how it implies our failure to see that what we keep striving for is right in front of us.