Gondolas



Spring.

He is all
floating lack
of direction; she
the song.

Their centers:
three-fourths water
and
spilling,
both flush with
the quiet gloss of un
-knowing.

She traces the canals
of her own
veins under
an unfinished fresco
sky.
 

..
Quickly prompted.

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6 Responses to Gondolas

  1. Lovely, lovely, de!! Your personifications cause me to smile. 🙂

  2. Shawna says:

    There are days when I feel like I’ve gone dolas. … Ooh, did you know that “dola” is Swahili for “dollar”? My dolas are definitely gone!

    Dude. This poem is gorgeous. I love it … especially this:

    “He is all
    floating lack
    of direction; she
    the song.

    Their centers:”

    This is totally my life right now. A lack of direction, but trying to sing anyway. I guess we’re all doing that most of the time, aren’t we?

  3. julespaige says:

    Like a painting … your words delightful out of the museum and free. 🙂

  4. This is beautiful and romantic. “an unfinished fresco sky” – what a great image.

  5. Brilliant poem, De. Beautiful, flowing images.

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