THE WAY OF PRAYER
Dreamily floating,
adrift
on an updraft,
a grocery bag catches
the car antennae, crumpling instantly,
then furiously flailing,
bicker and thrash, flogging itself
all panic against glass,
but it calms when I slow,
glide into the garage
it releases a sigh,
as if caught on a breeze
the gentle scent
of home.
Shhh…quiet, tiptoe
inside.
*
nice…thanks for popping in today…and leaving the link
Awesome! I love how the title has nothing to do with the body of the poem in a direct way. It completely splits the poem wide open — made me read it three times!
Oh, and the comp and color of those pictures, fantastic.
Your picture is lovely. It makes a pretty mundane object look gossamer and ethereal. I like your words. Especially: "bicker and thrash, flogging itself
all panic against glass,"
Very nice!
"bicker and thrash, flogging itself
all panic against glass,
but it calms when I slow,"
Much the way I feel some days …
thank you for this.
lovely, just love…
"the gentle scent of home."
you put things so wonderfully well.
Agreed–took out one of those pesky prouuuuns. Thanks Brian
nice…love the subject matter…the often over looked or trash…and making it something beautiful…
think you have a few words you could tighten here…a couple 'it's and her and theres, but it creates a rather dreamy flow…
good to see you.