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From Lucasta, on your going to the wars (edit)

by Stephanie Kent

The grass scraped my legs
as fear, iron-limbed,
droned over my head,

piercing the clouds.
I hid my collar-bone
with my hands, covering

that part of me that is left
naked when not clothed
by your touch. I buckle

beneath the muttering
of those engines that mar
the sky like the scratch

on my cheek-bone from
the nail in the door-frame
that I keep meaning

to remove. You would have
clutched me more gently
than the world. I will harbor

what belongs to you
in me, until you come
to draw it out again.

03/13/2010

Author's Note: A revision of an earlier version. Title inspired by Richard Lovelace's famous poem, "To Lucasta, on Going to the Wars."

Posted on 03/14/2010
Copyright © 2022 Stephanie Kent

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Charlotte Smith on 03/15/10 at 01:26 AM

From the imagery to the structure, I'm thoroughly impressed by this poem.

Posted by Paganini Jones on 10/03/10 at 08:44 PM

What an absolutely excellent, well crafted POTD! How could I have missed this before? An immediate favourite.

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