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September 5, 2013

this reminds me of nights
when awake in silence
tempered by the old house’s groans
and whispered breath
blankets for two, swaddle one
and as my shoulder and back report
the coolness of the air
I wonder if I live.


From → poetry

  1. Swaddled by poetry… This is lovely. And I enjoyed the discussion here in the comments too.

    • thanks – stop by any time. The poems won’t always be good, but they’ll be honest 🙂

  2. yes… some feelings can only made visible by words… and poetry has the power to bring things into the visible like no other art

  3. i certainly felt your words and enjoyed reading them. thank you!

  4. Good to see you back, Bill–yo’ve been missed.This is beautifully written and your sensitive words capture the loneliness of the night.

  5. I like this a lot. If I might suggest dropping the last line entirely. It would strengthen the piece. >KB

    • Thanks – I appreciate that. I am always looking for suggestions to improve my writing, so I welcome any thoughts you might have on any piece.

  6. ‘I wonder if I live” – powerful question. The quest for meaning and the sense that we are indeed alive can certainly urge us to write.

    • Once I wrote from pain, now I write because I am healed – funny how life is circular.

  7. There is that moment, isn’t there, that moment of awareness of self. And in the setting you’ve described so well with your spare, yet full words, the reader feels that same reality and pain.

    Thank you for sharing this with us.

    P.S. I’m glad to know, through reading a comment of yours above, that life is very different now.

    • Yes, I learned the more we love, the more we can love. The heart grows without bounds.

  8. as usual your words open the readers hearts and settle ‘all comfy like’ – Beautiful B.

  9. In that solitude.. Words will start to come..and those lines will make us alive.

  10. You could have called it Solitude – and poetry is all that is fulfilling and all that is achingly lonely and fearful in being alone. Very apt and well writ.

  11. I agree…. Poetry defines our humanity. Sorry you had no love in your home.

    • thanks – now I have two grown daughters and a wonderful wife – my love cup runneth over.

  12. We can never touch another’s heart until we touch our own. Emotions ARE the words we speak.

  13. this is poetry… poetry is what we wonder, the wonders words wouldn’t seem to fit… but there is a way – that’s poetry.

  14. and in poetry we know we are alive…or not…
    and can explore and feel the air on our backs
    or be swaddled in words…

    • Yes – I grew up in a home with everything but love. For many years poetry was where I shed tears that never reached beyond my heart.

      To me, poetry is where emotion transcends the words we speak.

      • i feel you there man…i was commenting elsewhere tonight that there are some things…some feeling that only poetry can capture…though i could say the same of other arts too….

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