My wife and I were looking through a box of her memories this morning, and we came across some of her old writing. Here's a little sample that I like:
My rag doll sits still;
untouched, yet loved
from a distance.
Her face, expressionless;
without smile or frown--
she does not know
what the future brings.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
Oh, NOW I get the connection. Show your wife my current avatar!
One of the things I like about poetry is that there are LOTS of right ways to do it. This is a nice piece. It evokes a scene, and a mood, and yet it's very compact. I'm a huge fan of compact poetry.
Has DW ever tried her hand at more formal, rhyming structures? I know you are a haiku guy, so I've never suggested it to you. It's really challenging (I can't do it in a meaningful way - I used to write pretty good "verse" but it was all just silly stuff). But then, I'm shallow.
I really think it's a good way to extend yourself as a poet.
Reading it for the second time, I realize how prophetic that poem was. It was like she was on the edge of something ominous.
Yeah, she married me. That was pretty ominous. Dun dun dun DUN!
Yeah, you were bad kama waiting to happen :) No, I meant that having autistic kids wasn't going to be the easiest thing in the world.
Post a Comment