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Post by scriptamanent on Apr 11, 2009 16:15:05 GMT -5
It was a day made of rain, The child was a six-year-old,
A teacher in front of the large window Was speaking, but she was not listening. Outside it was cold, the light eerie, The incident waylaying.
First of all three dogs escaped from a yard, Then her umbrella didn’t open properly, Two blocks away from home, the wind provoked.
The usually busy main road was Unpropitiously Empty all of a sudden…
Sensed the four legged gang, and ran. The chase The fall The panic Why did they stop, other kids at school Got bitten by those dogs.
She turned breathless when she got up And looked at them, was it a false alarm? Their tails wagging, Their formation unmoving, watching her, Their eyes satisfied.
Picked up schoolbag and broken umbrella, trembling, That night was the night of fever, Three injured toes healed slowly, Permanently destroyed nails, One for each dog.
2003
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Post by Ivan Carswell on Apr 15, 2009 4:49:58 GMT -5
I cannot let this one go unsullied - I love the intimacy of personal recollection (and a damn fine poem to boot), poetry IS experience, but we should use fewer devices to achieve balance. In this instance you are not guilty as much as the profusion of capital letters. Try to take them away, along with punctuation, and the gem you wrote in 2003 becomes a poem for the next decade (...or so)!
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Post by scriptamanent on Apr 15, 2009 8:16:43 GMT -5
It was a day made of rain, the child was a six-year-old. a teacher in front of the large window was speaking, but she was not listening. Outside it was cold, the light eerie, the incident waylaying.
First of all three dogs escaped from a yard, then her umbrella didn’t open properly, two blocks away from home the wind provoked. The usually busy main road was unpropitiously empty all of a sudden.
Sensed the four legged gang and ran. The chase the fall the panic. Why did they stop? Other kids at school got bitten by those dogs.
She turned breathless when she got up and looked at them, was it a false alarm? Their tails wagging, their formation unmoving, watching her; their eyes satisfied.
Picked up schoolbag and broken umbrella, trembling, that night was the night of fever. Three injured toes healed slowly, permanently destroyed nails, one for each dog.
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Post by scriptamanent on Apr 15, 2009 8:17:05 GMT -5
is it better now and ready for the next decade?
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Post by scriptamanent on Jul 10, 2012 4:16:26 GMT -5
the final edit
Three dogs escaped from a yard, Two blocks from home the wind Suddenly became stronger. Sensed the four-legged gang and ran. The chase - the fall - the panic. They halted, tails wagging, Their formation cordoned off An unsuspicious life.
Picked up school-bag and broken umbrella, Almost trembling.
The nights that follow such days Are nights of fever. Three injured toes healed slowly, Permanently destroyed toenails,
One for each dog.
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