The heavy air promises a storm.
As we climb up,
the clouds climb down.
Breath is elusive. I trip, fall.
You look back to offer help
but I wave away your hand.
With freshly grazed pink knees,
torn hands and raw knuckles,
we reach the dusty orange top.
I turn to smile at you.
We lift our heads to the skies
and let the rain wash away the blood.
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
Oh... the first stanza is just GORGEOUS.
I love how it contrasts the images and characterizes the clouds. And it makes it seem like the people are meeting up with the clouds... perhaps to touch the face of God? Anyway, it's really lovely stuff. The first stanza is absolutely marvelous.
Yes, I agree - this is a lovely soft piece. Not sure about the second stanza - the last line seems a little (dare I say it) cliche to me, but otherwise it was beautiful. There is perhaps a hint of profundity there but it's not blatant. Excellent.
This is an unusually soft peice. It isn't as blatent as some, but it is very good, and was very well written. I want to read more.
Basically all I can say is what xanthan gum has already. It is a nice poem. I don't think I would change anything about it, although the first stanza is my favorite in the piece. The phrasing is good, the form is good.
Very quiet and pretty. 'Gorgeous' is a good word for this. I enjoyed it very much, especially
With freshly grazed pink knees,
torn hands and raw knuckles,
we reach the dusty orange top.
Sorry, no critique.
A beautiful sentiment, but the only lines with any profound meaning were in the first stanza. In any case, I am sure that profound is not always the aim of poets. If I am missing something, I apologize. If not, this is gorgeous.