Blunt Device
I'd forgotten why you are gone.
Now it seems so familiar...
a sounding on the starboard side.
True, you were honed. A blunt device.
A constant keepsake chance for
a battered sleight of hand.
Misplaced on the rack of bent
memory, on a planet with a
distinct lingering mass.
rests an image of notion.
A fulcrum of cheerless possibility.
A nest. A layer.
It seems anxious to tower now,
handed a depth where I drown
beneath fainter tides than these.
yet, sleeping with past mischance,
a devil waits, his stride a
lurching lesson.
This is worded so precisely and powerfully! It is an incredible piece of work with such amazing imagery! "A fulcrum of cheerless possibility" an so many other choices of phrasing are just superb! BRAVO!
Thank you so much! You know i was nervous for you to read it haha
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STOPNice I love poems
Thank you