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Criminal thoughts of High walls
by Carissa DeweyAncient layers-
red.
clay, blood, burned, deep, dark,
walls. distinct.
and the sky gaping
a pathetic blue,
competes with this rock-
which more breathtaking.
and here we are
at our nights dwelling
split rock.
history abounds here
a fire pits endless blaze in time
here.
Its only the two of us tonight.
are we to fall in love-
as we warm near the fire,
as we sit miles alone.
and as we drink
will my conversation about rivers,
my childhood, my being in nature, my
passion of words- will it be real.
because Im always hiding, holding, gripping-
underneath this tongue.
These feelings.
will our hike
into the yawning canyon
create a silence between us,
and will it remind me of you.
and the gold garnished leaves
at the floor of
a sick creek,
will their perfect order
awaken me and will I ingest them
weave them-
then regurgitate them
as they journey throughout
my body.
the ancient aroma
a place like this harbors,
it will strain a fear in me, my love
and I will feel an eerie fever
seep through a void.
And if I told you this,
would you listen?
04/07/2008 Posted on 04/07/2008
Copyright © 2025 Carissa Dewey
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/08/08 at 04:02 AM I love how you bring so much great imagery to what's both a basic and very profound question. Well done. |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 04/11/08 at 05:53 PM Lots of sharp imagery. Appears, indicated by the last line, to be about relationship. |
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