Monday, April 1, 2013

Backworld

Backworld

Shadows throw creatures
onto the earth’s surface,

and since the shore wills
itself to disintegrate, the sea

moves, as a bee serves
the flower. The gates

of your body unlatch,
and you are born.

2 comments

  1. Magnificent, Hannah. So much unsayable said in so few sayings. The purpose of everything does keep spiraling away wonderfully doesn't it? All we know is we are re-born.

    I thought the poem could a little loosening of the line breaks, to better savor and direct the flow.

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  2. I just want to say THANK YOU for this suggestion! I originally had space between some of the lines, too, and kept messing with it...thanks much.

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