Eric Cockrell

Three Quarter Time - Poem by Eric Cockrell

the smell of woodsmoke
lingers in the air;
darkness falls,

like silent thunder.
the earth tremors and turns,
you walk from room to room....

or perhaps only,
a curtain blown by passion,
a broken cup, cobwebs

on pulsing walls.
a cry of passion,
water bursts the pipes...

one of my shirts
that you wore to bed.
a single shot

on a November morn....
the deer falls in
three quarter time.

sheets that still
carry your scent...
the ground naked,

and hungry for rain!

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Comments about Three Quarter Time by Eric Cockrell

  • Stefanie Fontker (10/8/2011 6:35:00 PM)

    Your writing always creates a particular emotion in me. I have yet to decipher what it is. Thank you for that, great poetry. (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 8, 2011

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