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In The Crescent At Night
A soccer ball deflated and hanged from a tree
Defies explanation and turns solemnly
In the breeze
'Disabled' marks label the automobile,
Abbreviated candour so blatant as to be
Functional insult
Photography stillness is laid out for eyes
That look to the moon for sunlight and listen
For life
But silence, its chilling reassurance and calm,
Rings in the bars of the fence, and the burglar alarm
Blinks benignly
And the watcher, in viewing this stillness, is still,
And by the unnerving emptiness and suburban chill
Is embibed in the languid and looming pallid scene
By impression
And is frozen
To the vision of malevolence in saccharine dream
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Many thanks, Milner, Macklin...
I've become more comfortable setting a scene in a poem, as opposed to a story or emotional statement.
Still feels like perhaps too many words in this one.
Cheers indeed! |
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This really grabs - the atmosphere tangible. excellent.
milner |
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| wow. i loved this. eerie, sad and visual. feel like i've been there before. |
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