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| Flickr Creative Commons photo by Vincent van der Pas |
Perpetual Impasse
Outstretched arms reach,
hail,
implore,
shrug.
Open hands caress
tenderly,
fleetingly,
forgivingly.
Blank face stares.
Unresponsive,
emotionless,
frozen.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014
When I sat down to write this morning, I thought I would do a bit of "line lifting." My physical therapy exercise sheets are sitting right there on the kitchen table and I jotted down "Active range of motion."
As I sipped my tea, the clocks ticked and chimed. And my poem went off in a direction I never expected.
That's what I love most about writing: the surprises.
* * * * * *
While we're on the subject of time, it's TIME to sign up for the Poetry Friday roundups for July-December. You can do that here.
And it's TIME for you to head over to today's roundup at Catherine Johnson's blog.
Happy Friday!
Tick tock - Happy Friday! :)
ReplyDeleteThat photographs is bittersweet and reminds me of graduation time. Your poem is haunting. I would very much like to try joining in on the Poetry Friday fun. :-) I'll think about doing a roundup!
ReplyDeleteHi, Mary Lee. Your opening stanza made me think of a hitch-hiker. No surprise. John Waters has been stumping his new book about hitch-hiking across the country. I imagine the hitcher asking, the driver inviting him or her in, or sometimes the blank face as the driver passes by.
ReplyDeleteI agree, writing surprises are fun. Would you call 'line lifting' the same thing as 'found poetry'?
ReplyDeleteDid you just stop time? :)
ReplyDeleteSo glad your hands are working again!
ReplyDeleteI'm with Ruth - glad that your hands are back to work so that your imagination can let loose! Great poem!
ReplyDeleteI especially love the first stanza. The ending is so sad after the reaching and imploring. It's like a conversation without words.
ReplyDeleteNot only the surprises while writing, but also the surprises of where and how your writing ends up, like when you learn someone is adapting your work into a play or a class recitation. The world is full of surprises!
ReplyDeleteYour poem and this image are a perfect pairing! So haunting. Glad to hear your hands are healing. :0)
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your poem--it has an immediacy that draws the reader right in. One of the thrills of writing is that it often takes us in unexpected directions!
ReplyDeleteMaryLee,
ReplyDeleteI can understand the frustration of PT and how it halts time that you so long for to move on. Impasses bring new awakenings though.
My dearest Mary Lee. Your poem moved me today. I will send this to one of my kindreds - who remain impassive and unmoving, yet forever tender - always fleeting though. Transient. Momentary. As all beautiful things are.
ReplyDelete