Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Poetry Fusillade, pt 14: Storm
A storm rolled in
West to East, sound and light
The feel of wind, a scent now...
I know that scent
Even in this small room
From a chair by a window
The kind that still opens.
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When I first wrote this, there was an actual storm going on up at the island, but as I wrote it, it kind of came out from the perspective of an elderly world war II veteran who was in New York on September 11, 2001.
I think it makes more sense with the photo. Otherwise, the context might be lost.
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I think it makes more sense with the photo. Otherwise, the context might be lost.
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