That April of the fall
it was already the
burning season;
petal-damp tulips
lined
the bent road, curving
west.
We donned the
camouflaged windbreaker
of nomads, who have
nothing but each other—
dashed from rock to
rock along the river’s edge
watching flames lick
the surface, catching fire
to ferns and
evergreens,
and burning down the
barns and silos
behind us.
We ran from it,
singed, to each other,
knowing together
we’d be able to save
us
and our crumpled
matchbook hearts
tossed somewhere in
the
ka-chunk, ka-chunk,
ka-chunk
of old tracks,
trained so many
miles long.
© 2014 Jennifer
Wagner
this poem paints wild young love in raw color and imagery! LOVE it!
ReplyDeletegreat last stanza...from singed together...to the matchbook hearts...it has some great elements to it...
ReplyDeleteThis is a perfect poem for Spring, with its imagery and youthful spirit.
ReplyDelete"the burning season" - an inspired metaphor. Awesome, actually. And your title (I confess, I had to look it up) . . . perfection!
ReplyDeleteThat last stanza - breathtaking. I loved every bit of this piece. Wonderful writing.
ReplyDeleteJennifer, I could see this as the opening scene from a movie - really strong pen ~
ReplyDeleteJenn, this is so vivid and I love the energy and the noise you shared~ I actually felt like I was with you~
ReplyDeleteWonderfully done!
To become nomads; traveling this bent roadway; we are each other.
ReplyDeleteFine work! _m
Gorgeous last stanza :)
ReplyDeleteoh i loved the crumpled matchbook hearts
ReplyDeleteand the ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk of the rails... felt
Exceptional! This really does feel like a snippet to a much bigger story - and THAT means it is great poetry. Honestly, I love your work and in a heart beat would buy a book of yours!
ReplyDeleteI love this from beginning to end.
ReplyDeleteI agree: vivid imagery, energetic, and captivating!
ReplyDelete/and our crumpled matchbox hearts/
ReplyDeletebeautiful.
Kind of frightening but kind of exciting, too. Very vivid. I like it.
ReplyDelete