Sunday, June 02, 2013

Between Hearts


We train the losses, to stay
safe inside the childhood vaults.

The pattern of undetected escapes-
Faux nimble hearts fumble free. 

Carving into curves so gently.
A hand brushes my throat.
Wind through prairie grass, caressing each blade.

The fringes of rapture
Swirl upon each limb.

Blessed forgetting.





The Sunday Whirl : vault, halls, swirl, crave, throat, wind,limbs, nimble, prairie, rapture, train, each

11 comments:

  1. Love the image of the wind caressing each blade if grass. Such a peaceful image

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  2. The time between hearts is precious. You paint beauty with your words. Lovely work, Teri.

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  3. The first stanza...reminds me that some children have to grow up too fast.

    Lovely piece. I was waiting for some more wind yesterday while mowing...

    Thanks for your visit to my 'Whirl' piece. The words were perfect for the charactor.

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  4. There is a quiet softness here, a yielding of heart and head. Beautifully done Teri,

    Elizabeth
    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2013/06/02/awakening-a-body-once-living/

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  5. Teri, what a lovely poem. Nicely wordled.

    Pamela

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  6. Sometimes forgetting is, indeed, a blessing! Very moving!

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  7. Dear Teri, These lines feel so right: "We train the losses, to stay safe inside the childhood vaults."

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  8. Oh, yes, some things (many, maybe!) are blessedly forgotten!

    A Whirl with Stanley Kunitz

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  9. This is wonderful and so true

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  10. Your words capture the essence of so many moments that I cannot describe.... beautiful.

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  11. love the line "carving the curves"...

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Comments are welcome and appreciated, thanks so much for stopping by.