I know you spent your night searching for me.
Trying to exploit my lines in flanking movements.
Each time you arrive, I've crossed the rivers and burned my bridges.
My defenses are stronger than the Shenandoah.
I'll move back up the Valley.
Retire to the safety of my heart's home.
Winding my way through Brown's Gap.
Back to the place of my solid comfort.
I have been thinking about this poem for an hour. I read it when I woke up, and it just about made me morning. Lovely, lovely.
ReplyDeleteI so enjoy reading the poetry of my friends. It is the personality condensed, steroidal.
I had to smile, and smile now, when I read my defenses are stronger than the Shenandoah. I thought, Oh yeah I would say so! Heheh.
It is ironic. That you flee and yet your poem's existence, declares that you want to be known. Is this the poet's dilemma?
Your metaphor has a strong and steady hand (as usual) I can see myself in here, rather uncomfortably so I confess. You have successfully drawn me in.
I wrote this last night in a mood of feeling invaded. And I compared my feelings to Jackson's Valley Campaign of 1862. Despite the fact that he was constently on the run to evade his foes, he was able to exploit their weakness of not knowing the area (i.e. my heart & feelings) They are unable to judge my motives of escape and feelings of wanting to be secure. In the end I recieved some casualties, but my heart is intact.
ReplyDeleteI understand this utterly
ReplyDeleteto me this read like a psalm, biblical in comfort and strength...
ReplyDelete