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inside the heart of it all
by Ava Bluin Savannah, the wind reaches out a hand to slap you
all while giving you the notion that She isn’t enjoying it as much as it seems
She walks over your bones,
whispers southern belle promises
of moss in the trees and olive branches grazing your cheek
She can twist into a ball right before sunset
with Her narrow roads swaying like the hips of an hour-glass woman
She is not easily amused by your ability to sweep naked in a laundry mat,
all while the beaten men walk on by,
they just walk on by
She isn’t herself in the springtime,
the leaves becoming too bright for Her shyness
the winter soothes Her
with the chill reaching out to pat you on the head
like a lost child wandering around an abandoned city
She is best in autumn
She can breathe easier then,
let down Her hair
let down Her guard
and allow the jazz playing in the background to reach inside every little home
She could easily trample with her might,
with her uncanny notion that lost love is better than none at all
She is wicked
when the moon is hanging low enough to allow you the ability to touch it
but you never do
and She is the comfort on a lonely night
when you walk down one of Her many one-way streets
and realize you aren’t alone
She is whispering now
with night in the distance
with her breath smelling of jasmine
and when you awake,
She will be there to welcome you
home. 01/05/2010 Posted on 01/05/2010
Copyright © 2024 Ava Blu
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jo Halliday on 01/05/10 at 06:23 PM Flowing beautifully, it is almost a classic American read in some respects. Probably it could be made even better with some rework, notably the autumn part of it, but even as it is, simply put, a remarkable work. |
| Posted by Sarah Wolf on 01/05/10 at 06:26 PM I love Savannah GA, one of my favorite cities. I visited my first time about two years ago and made it back a quick second... sill itching for another visit. You showed her off properly. This poem is just amazing Ava... Wow... wow... and wow... |
| Posted by V. Blake on 01/05/10 at 07:37 PM It looks like you're feeling at home and happy there, as you're certainly capable of capturing as much with this excellent poem. |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 01/05/10 at 10:04 PM What I love about this is how it manages to be more than just a beautiful, beautiful love letter to a new and exciting (at least that's how it reads to me) place. It talks about the wonder of just being able to appreciate the small things that have managed to keep some of these towns and cities unique from each other, while at the same time drawing attention to those things that bring them together as part of one endlessly fascinating landscape. There's a wonderful attention to details in this, and I can't help but smile at the second and sixth stanzas. Those are lines and images from a writer who will never stop appreciating the smaller details that make up that larger picture. Well done indeed. |
| Posted by Nanette Bellman on 01/06/10 at 04:48 AM No picture on the back of a postcard could capture the beauty of Savannah like you just did. |
| Posted by Michael Smith on 01/06/10 at 04:55 AM A lovely dedication. |
| Posted by Anita Mac on 01/06/10 at 05:58 PM I've always thought I'd love Savannah... This makes me more certain. This beautiful; I love this wind. |
| Posted by Rachel Bennett on 01/08/10 at 03:17 AM This is absolutely breathtaking - now I feel like Savannah is my home. Thank you so much for this beautiful write! |
| Posted by Julie Adams on 02/20/10 at 02:52 PM There is so much of what I have read of the area in this piece, but it is ur style, ur delivery, the you-ness that makes it more interesting for me, how u patch your images together, how u weave ur imagery with the senses, even the breaks feel fresh, every stanza a delight...esp: "Her narrow roads swaying like the hips of an hour-glass woman" and "he is best in autumn// She can breathe easier then,/ let down Her hair/ let down Her guard/ and allow the jazz playing in the background to reach inside every little home" and "She is whispering now
with night in the distance/ with her breath smelling of jasmine"...u really are a pleasure to read...how lucky I feel, peace, jewels |
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