through the forest; up on a bump,
back down to the ground. In January
Roo was king of White Knuckle Hill,
come February she bounced in a groove.
March up, April down; the hops grew
higher with each month of the year.
Secret smiles were the fingernail
marks on her bloody palm, harsh
reminders that things would improve
with time. At least she hoped so.
@laurie kolp
Prompt Inspiration: 3WW- bump, knuckle, transfix
Poetic Asides- Things change
9 comments:
The poem has amazing imagery. Thank you. My 3WW: http://verseinanutshell.wordpress.com/2011/06/29/next/
I love the way you describe all of this I hope that things get better too.
Time can be so painful..so present..you have described it powerfully but with your usual measure and beauty..the blood in the palms shouted gently off the page..Jae
How deceptive first glimpses can be... what seems so innocent, even fun, can actually be dire, indeed.
Such a beautiful conflict of emotions, that have to play out over time. Very nice.
revealing, admirable job.
Clever - and more importantly, charming!
Fingernail marks on the palm, coupled with secret smiles, would suggest fist making, and perhaps a forced improvement. Sounds like you've got it covered.
smart...smiles.
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