Lost In Yours
I lost my hand in yours
and we walked the same old route,
lost my hand like it’s not been lost
before, as we spoke of lake reflections,
old bridges,
car exhaust and work—
as pyres burn ahead of us
leaving scorched roads
in front and then behind,
prelude to eerie coyote calls
we hear when it’s way past curfew,
as Sunday morning dawns again
and we step through
the chipped church doors
as bells toll,
and we smile and look around,
warily,
amazed we haven’t been struck dead,
as the old folk glare
and teach their children,
their eyes always seeing our hands,
as the mass begins and ends,
before I finally pull you close to me
and finish what we started.
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
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Original Text:
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
I agree with the consensus on "lost my hand like it’s not been lost/before"...it bothered me when I wrote it but I left it in just because I like putting up an unpolished version so that people can critique it in it's "pure" form.
Thanks all
Brian
lost my hand like it’s not been lost
that was the only line that bothered me because... the repition of the word lost perhaps but the rest was very good... I'm tired... haha no offens ebut it's like 2 am here. I like reading poems early in the morning.
---TBR
I know what pyres are.
not really rhythmatic, but we won't get into this. the only part that i must object to is this:
this was a bit dull and served no point - i didn't feel any importance or...well, it was basically drudge for me to read. i'm not sure i used drudge in the proper context, but that is pointless.
pyres: basically, piles of burning stuff. as least that's how i know it.
i loved this last line.
Nice imagery,the first line really gripped me, it was a beautiful line.
As for the flow, it wasn't quite right in my opinion. The rhythm seemed awkward.
But as for the content of the poem, i really enjoyed reading this.