Showing posts with label nove otto. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nove otto. Show all posts
Braille
Labels:
3ww,
braille,
carry on tuesday,
fickle,
naquillity,
nove otto,
poesaics,
sparkle,
wrinkle
·
water's fickle surface- beyond,
the sun becomes tie dyed wrinkles,
raised waves of sparkly Braille letters-
those seafaring, pointy setters
frontally scudding with the wind.
you would have understood me
had you waited my fingertips
to chafe your salty collection.
Tiptoes
Bare feet, hard floor dictate her prose.
She wanders Mammaw's living room.
One foot, left foot, right- look at her
Causing Papaw's blackbird a stir.
She pirouette's to her own tune,
In unperfected time and style
She crosses her stage with a smile-
This growing, six year old, fleshplume.
My poem is based on a childhood memory while visiting my mammaw and papaw.
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