I've been to the river
Lieutenant Picker and me
Seeking wisdom
Short among tall pastels
Discomforting birch trees
Rusted remains of marshmallow trails
Kicked about scorched stones
Trying to make sense
Of this latest drumroll, ant city
She seems to accept things
While I struggle in vain
She moves around
Booting pebbles into closer shapes
Reciting as Unlover
While I sit, flagstone brief
An old smooth flatrock
Steady solid terrain, no modus
Maybe every leaf
That has, that would have, has fallen
I remark ignoring the weak
Menthol vapor rub I've been
I've seen the river
Picker and me
Trading worn out jokes
Unstacking piles, thinking of looking
For another way
To keep it from flooding
Keeping up the flow of imagination here Tailor, lots of tallent display Love duncan X
NoW i hAvE SeEn ThE RiVer Too, LOvE ThE spAcEs CreAtED By ThIs Tailor riffic fLOw, ThanX FoR fLoOdinG ThE senCes, MR BeLL
Tailor, there is so much to find between these lines penned with great skill. You share hurt and confusion and show the scene you describe imaginatively and so clearly Your title says it all. Brilliant. Love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxxx
I know this feeling. You paint the metaphor so engagingly and provokingly. It is superb. t x
Tailor, you've just had me peering into the abyss here - the abyss of sheer wonder tainted with finality - the ending of all! ! In just one read! This is spellbinding! Outrageously clever imagery and no filler at all! Can R Wilbur really do better than this? I doubt it! I'm at a loss for words again. This has got to be at least as good as Far Ponds. This is a distillation of so much intelligence, imagination, experience and skill.... what can I say!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Eloquent display of imagery, Tailor...Nice, tight even-flow...solid elocution Well crafted work, here...''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''F. j. R.