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    icedfire
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Poetical Musings - 1. Al

Seven years ago

I punched a mirror when I saw your face,

leering in place of my own.

As I watched the quicksilver

coursing down the wall,

I wondered how near the thud of wood was

to the dislocating creak of jaw –

or perhaps the thump

of your custom-made cowboy boots,

black leather inlaid with red

rattlesnake scales, as they dropped

your legs into your polished

oak box.

Combine the three:

the creak of its lid,

the thump of nails driven home,

the thud of precipitating earth.

A turn towards misfortune

delivered me from you.

Copyright © 2011 icedfire; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

 

The images of the poem are fantastic and strong! It seems a cliche to say 'walks a tightrope,' because this work seems to walk three of them at once: one of love, one of remorse and loss, and one of death. Tell me please, am I far off the mark?

 

It's a great poem, because it achieves so much with so few words. A part of me feels it's about that moment we look in the mirror and see one of our parents. 

 

Edited by AC Benus
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