Trespassing
There she was
In my place
The owner’s were never home
A place to be alone
Gulls above
Fish below
Teetering between
This place I visited often
To do what she was doing then
Unlike the gulls above
The fish below
She teetered between
Only a few times
Just enough to confuse
The solitude
When trespassing
From then on
Trespassing
Islands Off Solitude
5”x 6” ballpoint pen on toned
grey paper
a perfect combo, figure in poetry, poem in figure either way it sings to me
ReplyDeleteI'm glad it sings. I sort of liked the tune too:)
DeleteThanks
I like the gray, black and white, wonderful lines.
ReplyDeleteThank you
ReplyDeleteI wonder if she really was trespassing...or if it was simply fate - that she was meant to be there all along!
ReplyDeleteWithout her, the scene would feel a little empty and forlorn.
...and yes, your words sing beautifully too!:)
As a story, I’d have to go with fate… I’d want her existence to be more than a random coincidence. My other thought was to have her be imaginary, a made up lover, a muse, to address maybe the storyteller’s loneliness.
DeleteThank you