parts of the yew by Kristina Woodhill it is sick in here a slick white mucous a rubbing on the parchment irritating, really it is the yew, retching the benign black seed sticks, unchewed against the aging tonsil sometimes an arrow is swallowed straight its carving and shaping from a deliberate hand a sharp adz beginning, measurements take the bow by surprise the target is too close the string well, the string notches wait they do not know the twist has been reversed 01/22/2009 Posted on 01/23/2009 Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill Member Comments on this Poem Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 01/24/09 at 12:52 PM Sharp images, beginning as a possible description of allergy takes on strong symbolism of more serious proportions. Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 01/24/09 at 11:07 PM Pretty enigmatic, Kristina. Far better than playing with any Rubic's Cube, though. Things seem puzzeling and edgy. Enjoyed the diversion. Thanks. Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 04/25/09 at 01:03 PM thank God for words and thank you Kristina for sharing yours, and their unique blending. Posted by Glenn Currier on 09/18/09 at 01:26 PM Oh how we can twist that string and reverse the course of the arrow. You sent me to Google on the yew and adz and I am glad I went. The leaves of the yew look remarkably similar in picture to the hemlock - which we encountered on our recent trip to New Hampshire. But back to your poem, I could not help but think about the white mucous inside rubbing against those parts of us that want to craft a bow, notch the arrow, and send it to its chosen target. Thanks for this Wordsworthian journey. Return to the Previous Page   pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)