>Untitled(The Photo is the Title) For One Shoot Sunday

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She wasn’t broken plaster
She wasn’t boxed light
She wasn’t crawling shadows
She was the maiden on the prow
of a ship long stranded
on reefs of musty
memories
She was beauty
She was grace
She leaned for me
pointing
to the next hope
of rebirth
of whispered echos
down hollow
walls of decision

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10 thoughts on “>Untitled(The Photo is the Title) For One Shoot Sunday

  1. >Like the way you present all the things she was and wasn't; leads me to think her in purgatory frozen in her fall. Nice. Thanks for your earlier comment, Jerry. Hope things get better.

  2. >I love reading all the different poetry and how each of us see something different. "She was the maiden on the prow.. on reefs of musty memories" I love those lines. Thanks for the visit and nice comment.

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