by Stephanie Kent
he wrote of her as he remembered her when
she touched his arm as she laughed
and one of her curls brushed
she had walked with her face turned
upward, naming the clouds,
her hair framing her
shoulderblades like wings.
her pocket tossed away her favorite blue
glove with the hole in the thumb and
he had rescued it while thinking of
how small it was.
then he remembered she had never seen the sea
and he told himself he must keep it
in his mind to take her the next time a day was
Posted on 09/09/2007
Copyright © 2024 Stephanie Kent
|Member Comments on this Poem
|Posted by Richard Vince on 11/26/07 at 08:33 PM
wow. this is stunning. you've done an incomparable job of distilling all the beauty of a moment into words. astounding.
|Posted by Kris Mara on 04/15/12 at 11:48 PM
a beautiful moment here...it reminds me of those photos that are part still life and part slight movement if you know the ones I mean -- the effect is that it highlights exactly what you should be seeing so subtly, so gorgeously...it makes my heart ache a bit...in a good way...if that makes any sense at all...