Online: 4 members, 29 guests
Summer Scene - Chapter 1
Summer Scene
by karana kaou
Profile • Send Private Msg • Artwork • Writing • Website • AIM
Libraries: Poetry and Song Lyrics
Published on Oct 16, 2006 8:20 pm / 1 Chapter(s) / 0 Review(s)
Updated on Oct 16, 2006 8:20 pm
This is my first poem from my creativ writing class. We just moved out of poetry and I thought it was a good time for me to post these. This is a poem describing a scene we encountered over our summer. It's all about descripition and image usage, so there's no rhyme. Don't worry, I've got more poems coming!
Chapters
Write a Review
Report to Moderators
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Leaning Against the Window in the Bedroom Foyer: Wexford, PA
Pale orange light of the afternoon purs down over my head
Hands are cold; my heart is pounding
I'm reading the same line in this book over and over again
The windowsill is pressing into my back.
Just beyond it is the sound of a child riding a bike
Cars are lumbering in and out of the drive.
A violent retch; the shadows are blending with the walls
I straighten against the wall, soliciting more light; I'm reading the fourth line for the third time
Another sound erupts from the bathroom, my eyes stop on the page
The carpet beneath me is hard, bristled; sweat beads over my forehead
The bed in the adjacent room casts its growing shadow toward the bathroom
Looking to the television's grey screen, I can see her reflection
Her wheelchair hums along the carpet, the sheets rustle beneath her
Ink stains my thumbs; I turn to the second page.
Pale orange light of the afternoon purs down over my head
Hands are cold; my heart is pounding
I'm reading the same line in this book over and over again
The windowsill is pressing into my back.
Just beyond it is the sound of a child riding a bike
Cars are lumbering in and out of the drive.
A violent retch; the shadows are blending with the walls
I straighten against the wall, soliciting more light; I'm reading the fourth line for the third time
Another sound erupts from the bathroom, my eyes stop on the page
The carpet beneath me is hard, bristled; sweat beads over my forehead
The bed in the adjacent room casts its growing shadow toward the bathroom
Looking to the television's grey screen, I can see her reflection
Her wheelchair hums along the carpet, the sheets rustle beneath her
Ink stains my thumbs; I turn to the second page.
