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Lori Boulard


Normandy - Lost in Translation


Lulled by bells
of cathedrals and cattle,
my mind turns left
down a road out of town,
probably lost
so far from Paris
pollution and I think
of something worth
writing, give up
the best seat
in the house and slink
off to a corner
for a pen, quickly,
before the words jumble
like a license plate number
after a hit and run.

I always write
alone, like an injured
animal afraid
that if I hesitate,
that speeding car
might back up and return
to finish me off.

Submitted: Thursday, June 15, 2006
Edited: Sunday, December 10, 2006

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  • Rookie Raymond Wright (9/2/2007 1:43:00 PM)

    I once found myself writing in a tube station in London simply because I couldn't wait another second to record my thoughts. You have captured that need so gracefully and beautifully! A standout poem!

    ~Ray (Report) Reply

  • Rookie fanniesson - (10/16/2006 12:08:00 PM)

    you nailed it
    gonna give you that
    that feeling one gets
    when you have to get it down,
    now before you forget (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Carolynn Shaw (7/15/2006 9:33:00 PM)

    Lori,
    Really enjoyed this poem. Think John has a point about 'racing words'. Nonetheless good work!

    Carolynn (Report) Reply

  • Rookie John Kay (6/22/2006 3:53:00 AM)

    Lori...I like the revision, but I think there is still a problem with 'racing words.' John (Report) Reply

  • Rookie John Kay (6/16/2006 8:59:00 AM)

    Lori...the last two stanzas are great-really. Maybe you could cut the first three, which are interesting, but not nearly as powerful. I would say 'races away...' Your finger touched the gold on this one....take care, John (Report) Reply

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