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Forest of Childhood Memory
Running down a stream,
feet splashing
water, getting slashed
by stones,
around: reaching
trees with wide
branches and large
green leaves, the brilliant blinding
yellow and white sun sneaking
through the diaphanous
leaves like a voyeur, and the silent forest.
Feet splashing water—
the only sound in the vast
forest of childhood memories,
which shrinks
as age piles.
Silent laughter leaks
from wounded feet splashing at
receding water.
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This is very nice; I love the imagery and the metaphor "vast
forest of childhood memories” It reminded me of when I used to play in the creek behind my aunt’s house. |
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Comment by: Mick - 2008-03-10 03:13
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| Nice piece, an enjoyable read... keep it up. :) |
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Eric, I've read this piece several times, and think it's lovely.
In the first line of the second stanza are the words transposed? It seems that way to me. But I can never be sure with poetry! lol
This is a lovely image and I can hear the water. Like the third stanza best but mostly like the overall feeling of which memories stay as they all get farther away. Very pleasing. |
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