The Sound

Song-stride the Albemarle,
the way along the pickets
white-washed and shored
in pennywort and thistle.

Savor stems of licorice
from frayed pockets
and fishhooks dangling
the edge of wet-lands.

Culprits and vermillion
Stuffed in parades march
For you and me and you
Columned in calendar days.

Cherry-sticks and folded maps
Back inside the inwardness
Of a call-whence voice
rustling up the Albemarle.



Easterly        (February, 2008)

Licorice twists stick
to pocket lint and fishhooks
curve with tumblehome.

We stroll the Albemarle
along the picket’s way,
white-washed and bordered
in pennywort and thistle.

Center-curb at fall parades
it’s you and me
and calendar leaves
gummed to the soles
of our shoes.

Our tracks up and down
the shores of the Sound
are eventually
lost in the breeze.

I just wanna put whipped cream on it and eat it.  Delicious.

I love all the sounds in this work, larry.  It is a song-stride in and of itself -- thanks, much, for sharing it here.  lynn

This an old work that has been revised many times during these two years. I thought I would link it to the most recent version for comments and possibly spur some dialogue on revision.

larry

Second version gave me a lot more in terms of the old "dramatic situation."  Unfortunately, some of the sound was lost.  Imagine me, arguing for sound over sense.

Rick

Really go for this re-written version, Larry. It has a great sound to it, and stronger concentration by reducing 'us' to a minimum. (I think you know how I go for that!)

Cheers

milner