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These white county linesthese gravel scars
I guess they run through
my palms, too.
The dripping flesh
the pregnant fields
_________________________ripened
______________________expectation
giving birth to yesterday
I guess it flows in
my veins, too.
This yellow scent of tender grain,
manure and of sky
_________________________the pulse
____________________the lifeblood
These rivers
these steady palpitations
I guess they are
my arteries, too.
Pumping out my
_________________home
my vital signs.
I guess the throb of this
greenbrowngreen
is really just my heart.
posted by Erin @ 6:06 AM
5 Comments:
oh Erin i likey this one a lot! you truly are the smalltown, dare-i-say country gal :)
now i'm convinced. i must come see how your heart looks like on the fields and meadows!
any time Val. Any time.
i love the last three lines....greenbrowngreen is really just my heart.....*sniffle* its beautiful.
huggles*
Your poetry often lacks irony... that's refreshing... irony is after all, just lying in drag.
"lying in drag"--that has a nice sound to it that matches its meaning (i think.)
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