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the man calls
by Michele Schottelkorbthe man calls
our pilgrimage to the desert
beckons
soft voices
calling sweetly, darkly, quietly
in our ears
my home~ a pink sky
shall wait
for the desert calls
the burning of the man
we anticipate our fate08/21/2003 Author's Note: another Burning Man poem...
Posted on 08/22/2003
Copyright © 2025 Michele Schottelkorb
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 08/23/04 at 07:42 AM repetition can make or break a piece. this one is brief, so in my opinion, it can do one of two things. the second one i thought weakened it, until i realized (i'm more than a little slow sometimes) that it was setting a pace and tone. i still feel that it could be stronger, but... c'sera. :) it's also three in the morning. |
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