…
there is a harvest
of phrase
(a hum,
a song,
a scream)
behind
my be
-stung tongue.
my teeth
a cage,
my seeds are gone.
no pit,
…………….all stone.
..
Prompted by toads.
…
there is a harvest
of phrase
(a hum,
a song,
a scream)
behind
my be
-stung tongue.
my teeth
a cage,
my seeds are gone.
no pit,
…………….all stone.
..
Prompted by toads.
Love this! You do wonders with such brevity!
Wow! Fantastic!
I suspect I’ve told you this before, but I’ll say again: you are magnificent at the art of line breaks that build pure yumminess. Love how your breaks make us dance at the beat of your poem. I might spend a considerable amount of time saying to myself,
“behind
my be
-stung tongue.”
Wow!!❤️ You totally rocked the prompt, De!❤️
Be-stung tongue…..Be-you-ti-ful.
These images are so vivid and sparing – the message is strongly felt.
Such talent.. Your ability to speak a chapter in a brevity of words is truly a gift.
The last three lines bring the point home in their powerful bleakness.
Oh dear– terribly brutal really. The stone somehow different from pit– ubgerminating– thanks.
Each line has such power to it. You’ve done a great job at making a strong impression with each one.