If we’re awake at 3 amthat’s when we go deepestwords drift like floesaway, then near and away againWe lie together, bellies flatpacked against the icetugging our shirts to warmexposed waists, and there’sso much sea belowso many sorries surroundingThe conversation is just beginning
For Hannah’s prompt to the Real Toads: Ice Caves
This is intense, Marian. Hard to keep warm sometimes when all the cold surrounds, but your words give hope that it is possible.
ReplyDeleteExciting take on the prompt.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed the way the words flowed.
Peace
Siggi
This sounds wonderful, intimate and deep, and "the conversation is just beginning". Sigh. Your life is like watching one of the very best movies!
ReplyDeletelush, but curtained with much hidden
ReplyDeleteThere is that chance of warmth in the chill..beautifully written!
ReplyDeleteIn the coldest hour there's warmth in that conversation ~ Good one Marian ~
ReplyDeletethere is a lot packed into this poem..read it once provokes a thought... read it again it provokes yet another...
ReplyDeleteThe drifting of the conversation at 3 am .. the flow and ebb of it. That is awesome and a perfect description!
ReplyDeleteWonderfully written. The ebb and flow of conversation in the darkest hours.
ReplyDeleteK
Woke at 4 am to finish my poem. It should have been at 3. I remember those intense into the wee hour conversations in my dorm way back when, but when it comes to crusts of ice and the deep sea, I am glad that the conversation is just beginning. I like the exposure here, the closeness, the huddled hope.
ReplyDeleteI loved susan's comment....... wonderfully written.....very artistic....
ReplyDeleteBeautiful imagery.
ReplyDeleteThis has a raw surreal quality to it. I liked it.
ReplyDeleteSuch a sensuous piece...I can really feel this poem, Marian and there's so much truth to it, too. Thank you so much for writing!!
ReplyDeletethank you for the evocative prompt, Hannah. so beautiful!
DeleteMarian, there is so much to say here... the sensuality, as Hannah said... and the idea that the conversation is just beginning. A wonderful peek into those lives in that cold room. sorry I've been absent, but I'm back. Peace, Amy
ReplyDeleteI too love the mystical feel of your verse~
ReplyDeleteIt made me want more
thank you for your lovely comments, friends. xo
ReplyDeleteFor me, your poem hit deep ... I have experienced too many of those 'in the coldest hour' conversations. Whew!!
ReplyDeleteIn the moment when we cannot sleep, my soul caught in a narrow point in the cave as if alone, forever... the ground warm to lay against, the sky betrayed but the embers left in the pot belly stove or in the oven of the old quilt the turned pillow is to face a welcome chill... these thoughts you awakened said so simply and sharply at the creative beginnings of our shared conversations...
ReplyDelete:) yes. let's talk.
ReplyDeleteOh I love this. I've missed reading your poetry. I may be here all night. :)
ReplyDeletei'm so glad you are here! thank you xo
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