bury ton
through the word lens
the detailed movements of your hands
are a phrase
the grand mother clad wisdom
a learned reverence of small things
so far from first things
black bending bones
in the colourless wind
where the small ones' smiles
are the only sun on the mountain
- ex-jedi's blog
- Login or register to post comments
beautiful, ex-jedi
This is a very beautiful poem. The images are entrancing. My one constructive comment is that I had a tough time at first reading the next to last line until I realized you meant:
"small ones' smiles". When you put in the apostrophe, it makes it possessive. Otherwise, this is a great poem. I really liked it.
joyce
Thanks
I'll add the apostrophe right away. Punctuation and grammar have never been my strong point. Mrs Bradbury, my school English teacher, is reproaching me in the aether somewhere :)