3.29.2014

Hankering

There are Monday mornings
following every escape,
shadows behind turned backs,
whispers behind closed doors.

There are footprints leading
away from joyous occasions,
fogs lifting from melting ice,
ragged blooms in mud season.

There are memories wound tight
in skeins of regret.
There are things we kept
secret after all.

Kerry asked the Real Toads to complete and use in a poem this line: "There are things we kept secret after..."

12 comments:

  1. Ah, those footsteps leading away, and Monday mornings leading back.. the regrets...the secrets... This poem has given me cause to sigh very deeply.

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  2. among so many wonderful images 'ragged blooms in mud season' stand out....

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  3. I love your thing with words, you know that. You'll always be a favorite poet of mine. <3

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  4. skein of regret...I think many have a basket full.

    Well done.

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  5. There are so many gorgeous images in this. Beautiful, beautiful work.

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  6. The regrets, the things not done, or those done.. those are the secrets indeed.. and like a millstone around our neck it's Monday ordeal.

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  7. I agre with Mama images piled on top of images. this is great poetry.

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  8. What a profound beginning:
    "There are Monday mornings
    following every escape"

    Love it.

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  9. Sometimes the light of Monday morning is too bright....Such a creative use of the phrase

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  10. ... and now, it's Monday morning. :) xo friends!

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  11. Monday, Monday ... regrets are painful, yours are beautifully captured.

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    Replies
    1. at least now it's Tuesday. ;) xo & thank you, Helen.

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