Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Rumors

do a body
no good. We can

live inside the may be,
the cold windshield
fogged with half

truths. Lines
of mouths whisper
half words in quarter
ears.

The pink of what should be
red. The gray of what
should be white.

We find ourselves alone
in a tiny box
at the end of the
story.

(for an Easystreet prompt)

5 comments:

Crafty Green Poet said...

excellent, I like the subtle shades in this

Jo said...

The pink of what should be
red. The gray of what
should be white.


LOVE these lines. So clever, Holly.

holly said...

thanks guys!

Julie said...

Excellent poem, Holly! I love the colors. And I LOVE the cold window fogged with half truths. That one knocked my socks off.

I really connect with this one. For some reason, I'm always the subject of rumors. I don't know why. I'm a rather boring person on a daily basis, but people love to make up stories about me. Maybe it's because creative types really freak some people out. I dunno.

Anyway, your poem sent a zinger straight through me. I don't know if that's how you mean for it to be interpreted, but the world revolves around me (ha), so that's what I thought of when reading.

And the ending...so, so powerful. I love it! It's always a treat to read your work, Holly.

holly said...

Thanks so much Julie! I'll be back in a couple of days after a slew of papers and a visit from my parents.