Memory
I search for you by the chasm of recollection,
listening for the crackle of leaves under your feet,
never quite near, snatching glimpses of your wrinkled ankles as you flee through
dense packed trees. Why do you taunt me, darting out of reach;
flaunting your gray-streaked hair, woven of thoughts, places, faces, words,
frazzled with turmoil and glinting with laughter? But now I’ve caught your frail arm,
and yanked a strand from your head,
claiming victory for today, fickle Memory.
Fickle Memory. I like that. I think it is interesting the approach you took to Whitman, what lead you to have a poem of more wondering and journey? Just curious. BTW: I really liked the "Pretty Little Town" photo it adds to the poem.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing.
You've captured the feel of Whitman's sentences well here, with the accumulation of parallel phrases. Also, you've done a good job of embodying an abstract concept, also a Whitman quality. I like the details of crackled leaves underfoot, wrinkled ankles, frail arm, strand of hair.
ReplyDeleteI love the personification of memory in this poem. I think you did a great job of giving just enough details and specific word choice to really help me relate.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed your Whitman imitation poem. I felt engaged and drawn in by the brisk and purposeful tone the poem has. Your zealousness compliments the rich imagery and engrossing phrases you use.
ReplyDelete