She said there were no bells,
only her clam hands
and fretful feet rattled in the eve.
The sirens would not go off
nor did her knees faint
from the tie-dye of bliss.
She felt no quakes,
no bumble bees,
no panic sharks reeling
in the pint of her belly.
Not once did her shoelace hair
curl like ringlets.
Not once did she hear bells.
poetic language choices! I'd like to read more too. I see you have a website and a book...
thats a really good poem, I really enjoyed reading it, I hope you post more. your a good writer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
in the pint of her belly........... pit? i really don't understand this poem. bri ;)