Fall lit her eyes as she drove.
Smiling, she dared me through the drifting leaves
to catch her
-- the ancience of autumn all around us --
she dared me, as the leaves fell.
This text © 2004 John David Robinson, all rights reserved. Duplication prohibited without written consent.
Monday, January 15, 2007
(Fall lit her eyes as she drove.)
10 points to anyone who knows (without being told) who this poem is about. (And welcome to anybody joining us through my Facebook news section.)
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2 comments:
i'd say it's the jeep, but you have referred to both jeeps in the masculine. but it would be a good poem about your jeep.
i like this one, it's a little eastern feeling, i'm imagining house of flying daggers as i read it. it's all kind of airy, as in the imagery is outdoors and also as in there's lots of intentional white space with the different line lengths and the hyphen thingies.
not my favorite poem, doesn't grab me like the other ones and i like to be grabbed (wait that sounds bad) but i still like it. it's light.
Thanks, Alissa. You're right that it isn't a Jeep. I also love your comparison to House of Flying Daggers (one of my favorites): the poem, in my mind, actually captures one of those almost-still-frames employed in that movie.
The subject of this poem, however, is from another.
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