You think you can prepare
for sudden loss. The late call
all the what would I do if
and what will I do when…
Much like you pause in the dark doorway
before quick-crossing moonlit floor
launching into bed as if
the monster can’t reach his long hands
snatch your ankles, yank you under
even so
Yes.
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I don’t think you can ever prepare.
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Never. There’s no rehearsal. (K)
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The monster always has longer arms than you think…
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I’m glad I read this just before I went to bed.
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😉
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I like the way this switches from an abstract pondering to a reality we all recognize, which is itself a childish reaction to the abstract…We are so predictably mixed up and illogical, aren’t we?
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Definitely, and there are those thoughts/forebodings etc. that logic will never dislodge.
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We’re human beings, not machines. Logic only works sometimes for some people in some circumstance 🙂
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“quick-crossing moonlit floor” **
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the poem begins with observations but then suddenly becomes electricity that shocks. i admire how well you use rhyme in this piece.
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I tend to balk at rhyme schemes in formal poetry, but I do like to play with sound. Thanks for your comment!
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‘even so’ – one of my favorite figures of speech – just hangs out there where you put it. Waiting for the reader to dwell. Nice.
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Thanks–and now I see why I like that expression also!
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