A redraft this post, with thanks to Nel for her very pertinent comments. You can read the previous draft here.
INDOOR FIREWORKS
Undeniably the box held promise
a sun bleached label with wonky grammar
overprinted with geysers of bright light
Reality was something different
A splutter of iron filing sparkle
a brief magnesium flare
as the house filled with smoke
I was grateful back then
there were no smoke detectors
some life lessons are best learned early
To be honest I looked at the poem prior to our discussion and had decided that two of the lines needed to be swapped about. However, I cannot stress the importance of constructive feedback from people you trust.
I'm reading Wishing On The Moon by Donald Clarke, a biography of Billie Holiday. I leave you with These Foolish Things.
Until next time.
No comments:
Post a Comment