A meadowlark
dips his beak into
a teeming stream
when he sings he whistles
blissful things that
I could never start
and in his wings
freedom gleams as
morning dew departs
but in his stature
meek as be
there is no love
in his heart
Friday, July 31, 2009
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Evocative work, Vance. Beautiful spaces in between the phrases. Congratulations on your FB-i-cide.
ReplyDeleteI feel like the second stanza interupts the rhythm..
ReplyDeleteEspecially the ending of the second stanza.
I love the wording.. and I think overall the flow is good.. but.. something bothers me.
Can you explain that to me?
The techincal explaination.
Hmmmmmmmm.....the second stanza is very aural; there is little else (if any) for the "mental ears," as compared to the "mental eyes."
ReplyDeleteSo far, that's 'bout all I got.
First person is only in 2nd stanza. But...mmmmmm.....not bothering me. I don't think.
I've always claimed (and always will) that poetry and music are inseparable. I'll have to "listen" a few more times to your verses to get further in. Maybe more later. Or maybe less.