A Place Outside Time

Watching sunlight through glasses of water
In a still room that smells of basil
And sand
I can feel you thinking from over here
Such heavy thoughts
I look out at the sea
And your thoughts warm my back
As I contemplate space
With my hand on the window glass

There are times in this pale house
While you're out shopping for milk
That I am breaking
Or reforming
Or close to an edge
It feels like the birth of a star
I don't question this
I think about change

Silence invelopes us these days
And the whine of the refidgerator
Is the hearties sound
But I know you so deeply
You hold my hand when we run
The quiet is kindness
It falls like time
Under our skin
This is a passage of numbers and seconds
A respite
Your thoughts crowning my head
As protection

I'm not sure I quite understand who "you" is in this, but it was a lovely piece. A very enjoyable read.

I really like the poem, it feals heartfealt, but I'm confused. Are you talking about your boyfriend? or your mom?

There are times in this pale house
While you're out shopping for milk
That I am breaking
Or reforming

Seams like your mom, but...

But I know you so deeply
You hold my hand when we run
The quiet is kindness

Seams like your boyfriend.
Sorry, just a little confused there. But everything else is great!

neither, it's in character (sort of) so i's not my anything but rather a combo character's boyfriend/signifigant other type thing

I really liked this poem especially the start:

"Watching sunlight through glasses of water
In a still room that smells of basil
And sand
I can feel you thinking from over here"

:thumb: Well done!

thank you . I like that part too.

Sabine -


I think this deserves another pass or two.

William Meredith in his collection, “Effort at Speech” has a love poem about crossing thin ice that’s different than this. It speaks to the same topic, however, and I recommend it to you as one of my favorites.

You do capture the haunting quality of the situation, and your choice of voice in the beginning of the poem is very effective.

That said, the language overall leaves much to be desired. You have short, two or three word lines that amount and contribute to nothing in the poem.

"That I am breaking
Or reforming
Or close to an edge "

These sorts of flip-flops in choice make this reader wonder where the narrator from the first strophe, who was considerably more involved and precise, disappeared to. The conclusion doesn't rescue the poem.


Take care,
Brad

invelopes

envelopes?

Please check your spelling. Trust me, this poem is worth it.