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stan n nassano

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17 Miles From Anywhere
by stan n nassano
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by stan n nassano
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           >> View all 163

 

17 Miles From Anywhere

17 miles back
 on some dirt
road
heaven known’s ,where
I am
 I don’t care much
anyhow
mountains to the north
with snow on top
met a girl last
night
even, remember her
 name.

Just turned on the
radio, Springsteen
riff opening up
 Bruce asking /telling Mary to take
his hand
they’re headed for the promised
land
screen door slams……
and a cloud of dust swirls
in my rearview
and I don’t care
much, anyhow

Drifting in and out
of these endless ruts
this land of cracks, fissures, faults
and trust
silence now, not even the wind
then the sound of life
begins
a green trail
Sweetwater, I’ve
found…………..17 miles from
anything
snassano 7-26-08



 



 

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Reviewed by Steve Meador 11/28/2010
I find this a very decent piece of work. I think you could drop S3 and make it stronger. For example, you could end with something like:

and I don’t care
much, anyhow
way out here

Nice and gentle local dialect and retrospective tone, even though it is recent past. Anyway, just some thoughts.
Reviewed by K. Mulroney 5/28/2009
Well, you have been doing some practicing! This was really good writing!
Reviewed by Michelle Mead 8/1/2008
You had me totally there!! And thinking of someone, loved this.
Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader) 7/29/2008
Great writing dear man...stay safe and well...Hugsss
Reviewed by Mr. Ed 7/27/2008
Journey on, my friend - and there are many a day when I wish I were at least 17 miles from anything.
Reviewed by Charlie 7/26/2008
sweetwater... I love this write. And welcome home! --Charlie
Reviewed by Gene Williamson 7/26/2008
Apparently, Stand, the shortest distance between Anywhere
and Somewhere is...Nowhere. Just around the next bend. -gene.
Reviewed by blue soplain 7/26/2008
... ... everything of you comes, full circle. . .. back to the beg.in.ning.. ..the faults and cracks related to trust [speaking the truth of what you are; burned to the core, but not broken] is the climax for me. .. . the delicatete workable f.laws of land and heart so permeating, so dusty dry..this makes me thirsty; can you drink rocks? how bout a box of them??? ;]
i would know your writes if you blindfolded me.
just by the touch of them. ..
intimate and personal and silently introspective.
you smell like crayons.
(\/)
Reviewed by D Johnson 7/26/2008
what a trip, man, what...a...trip! nice writing.

cheers,
dan



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