Wordle 196

196

Brenda Warren

How long have we stood here

Face to face waiting for a sign,

Waiting for the miles between

Our words to confiscate themselves,

For either a spell or an aim to swallow

Our far-ranging trepidation?

I have never tasted

The fruits of my mind

The scorching brittle fruit,

Pith’ed in nimbus and pitted

With a deadly and noncommittal maybe

We cannot live on trite conditionals.

I fashion the tatters of my spirit

Into a set of wings and although dormant

They are still formidable to behold.

The sun chimes, my hands itch

I rake them through tufts of grass

Whole continents of mines

Laid out side by side

Wherever there exists

A sliver of untenanted land.

Beauty is the surfacing

Of the monumental

In what once was obvious,

The sincere application of a smile

Where no other light can be found.

I know your smile, it is the arrow

To my rapt and ready tension.

I set my watch by your impatience,

The rhythmic extrapolations

Of your forefinger against

A wall of silence.

How does one surpass almost?

And what is more certain than yes?

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15 responses to “Wordle 196

  1. “Whole continents of mines/Laid out side by side/Wherever there exists/A sliver of untenanted land.”
    And lest we judge the treacherous landscape too harshly:
    “Beauty is the surfacing/Of the monumental/In what once was obvious”
    🙂 Nice.

  2. So many wonderful lines. My fav,

    I fashion the tatters of my spirit

    Into a set of wings and although dormant

    They are still formidable to behold.

  3. it
    was
    never
    her
    intention
    to
    put
    him
    under
    her
    spell
    that
    was
    not
    her
    aim
    she
    thought
    him
    trite
    maybe
    even
    too
    young
    she
    looked
    into
    his
    eyes
    and
    saw
    his
    spirit
    she
    saw
    the
    miles
    he
    had
    walked
    the
    land
    he
    had
    crossed
    she
    heard
    a
    bell
    chime
    she
    felt
    his
    heat
    and
    knew
    his
    prose
    would
    scorch
    the
    pages
    of
    her
    heart

    maybe
    this
    was
    a
    sign
    that
    love
    had
    found
    her
    at
    last

    there
    was
    nowhere
    for
    her
    to
    hide

  4. Pingback: Words, Led | Whimsygizmo's Blog·

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