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Clarity begins at home [w/ am]

by Laura Doom

I look to the north
with a gaze I know you feel
through walls of concrete and brick
over miles of hills and highway,
to catch a first and teary glimpse
as you fade away.

New horizons fold
like hopeless hands, mistakes
driven through the heart
of bloodless lands.
Your wish is my regret, a distance
ruled by reprimand, an orphaned child
displacing blind ambition.

Perhaps I did not
flaunt my existence enough;
that might have changed the thing itself.
Perhaps I am
just a thing of the seasons;
isolated and lonely in the winter.

Spring's rape will divest me
of anonymity, dress me
in naiveté; the new girl,
head on the block,
severing connections
with static recollections, trusting
reinvention to be better than cure.

And in summer I will revel
in this new self
forgetting lessons of the past
held in the strawberry fields
and blackberry briars.
Would you leave me to it again?

A dog by any other name;
in season, marking time and place,
the pluck of petalled pride
fills your hands with flesh, your heart
with death. I refuse to waste away
in borderlands of bated breath;
the view clears as I look to the south.

03/28/2009

Posted on 03/28/2009
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 03/29/09 at 02:55 PM

trusting
reinvention to be better than cure

the northern surreal and the southern real are holding a meeting and you two are their magellans.
Posted by Anita Mac on 03/30/09 at 02:56 AM

*teehee* I love that Elizabeth commented on both our copies. ;o)

Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 03/31/09 at 11:40 PM

and i love what you and anita did together!

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