Naomi Shihab Nye

St. Louis, Missouri
Naomi Shihab Nye
St. Louis, Missouri
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Making A Fist

Rating: 4.1
We forget that we are all dead men conversing wtih dead men.
—Jorge Luis Borges

For the first time, on the road north of Tampico,
I felt the life sliding out of me,
a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear.
I was seven, I lay in the car
watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass.
My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin.
'How do you know if you are going to die?'
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COMMENTS
goldbee 17 July 2020
++1++ ++1++
0 0 Reply
Mahtab Bangalee 27 May 2018
Years later I smile to think of that journey, the borders we must cross separately, stamped with our unanswerable woes.
0 0 Reply
Rajesh Thankappan 01 June 2016
A very touching poem indeed. The road of life often offers bumpy ride and if we can negotiate it, well done!
2 0 Reply
* Sunprincess * 11 February 2016
...........excellent poem....I could never ride in the back seat again ?
1 1 Reply
Pranab K Chakraborty 02 February 2013
Beautiful. The doctrine to fix the fist of existence. It's a feast of positive thought.........................................................Pranab k c
4 4 Reply
Savita Tyagi 02 February 2013
Very nice! A mother's simple loving conversation can stay with a child for ever.
8 1 Reply
Felix Nazario 08 February 2008
Yea................ >.<
3 8 Reply
Mika Nakishima 27 November 2007
very...nice......really nice...i wish naomi didnt use religions in it tho -_-
7 10 Reply

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