Unrhymed Minutes



Untimed, she chains herself in song
slips words to sky,
stills her heartbeat
to trebled moon.

Too soon, she finds the world bleeds by
and steals her breath;
her slanted sigh
a troubled pause.

Just cause for holding all things loose,
a quiet truce
with empty hands.
Blank page, she stands.

This is a variation of the “minute” poetry form, for Quickly.
Head over and check out the prompt. 

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2 Responses to Unrhymed Minutes

  1. Shawna says:

    Oh my gosh, I really love this.

    1) I had to turn “trebled” into “tre(m)bled.” The moon really wants it that way.

    2) I love this: “Too soon, she finds the world bleeds by” … all the longer lines, really.

  2. Misky says:

    Very nice, particularly the last stanza.

Use your words.

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