I cannot be the abstract
the city asks of me
I cannot maintain the grind
of teeth, of grime –
the hot seconds stuffed
into dull hours
when I do not go out,
the ghost of going out
rises within and whispers
of how the November woods
still smell of autumn –
of how the sleeping lake waits,
placid with the mountains
etched upon her face
© Sarah Whiteley
Nicely written couplets!
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What is that saying that you can’t take the “country out of…” the individual….I think it’s true…I grew up in a small town…and those values are still embedded in me.
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I believe that’s true… we might forget for a while, but we always come back to it.
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Beautifully written…. I resonate with this, Sarah. 💗
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❤
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And I resonate with it as well. Couldn’t do a city, I would shrivel up and die.
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It’s never gone. We have to remember that – while remembering to save it from ourselves.
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Beautifully done, Sarah, and nicely observed.
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Very kind of you, John. Thank you!
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Skilful and beautiful.
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