As He Walks Away
by April Pittman
Tuesday, January 21, 2003
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As he walks away,
his distant paramour on the horizon,
the hills resting on his shoulders like mountains,
his feet tapping a death toll in the dirt,
and the road before him endless,
black shrouds wrap around his legs
as if to halter each wayward step,
and drag him back to the arms that wait
in the little cottage past the bend,
hidden in the supple curves
of the seductive path he's chosen
it's tucked beneath the rolling land
and there she waits with arms spread
wide open and maybe slightly dead
as he walks away.
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|Reviewed by Jeremy Vaeni
|This, I KNOW you wrote! Once again, vivid and a bunch of great plays on imagery. You're awesome.|
|Reviewed by Janet Caldwell
|Anne Sexton said something like pain/exposure etc. is cheap but someone has to do it. That is NOT the quote but it is something that you have always done well. The truth, as raw and ugly as it might be. You are not an immature writer, you speak truths which most people are too chickenshit to do. I admire you April, we all have a voice and they are ALL needed. Some more than others and you are in the former.
Love, JC xoxoxo
|Reviewed by Mari Laureano (Reader)
|Don't ever doubt yourself, April. You are in touch with an inner voice that screams poetry...this is beautiful...longing captured in a cloud of dust....you take us there...don't ever give it up...**Mari**|
|Reviewed by Anwer Sher (Reader)
|Reviewed by Jack Roberts