Joyelle Osburn

Rookie (1976 / Tennessee)

Woolgather - Poem by Joyelle Osburn

He speaks to me while I slumber-
his voice; matchwood.
perforated eardrum.
I went back only
to find the pandemonium-
two blisters crammed with fiery
and statues of what
used to be a pillar of dust.
Looking back,
I see him
hunting for the past-
(pasted to the wall)
Forgot my coat-
glaciers form on eyes
like thick smog
on the horizon.
He held the torch
that can no longer
melt the heart.

I shake myself awake
and I smile.

Comments about Woolgather by Joyelle Osburn

  • (4/19/2005 7:50:00 PM)

    Visual and complex-nice work. (Report)Reply

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  • Paul Slinski (4/14/2005 10:45:00 PM)

    They always vote low if they have to think too much about it lol

    This rocks, you rock. We are a pile of large stones at the bottom of a dried up wishing well.

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Read poems about / on: hunting, smile

Poem Submitted: Sunday, April 10, 2005

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