we lived at a staccato rhythm
punctuating each other's
exclamations, yet
traced not a mark
on noteless time: an empty score
dissonant parts leave
not even the faintest of echos
- - - - - -
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 9:49 PM UTC
we lived at a staccato rhythm
punctuating each other's
exclamations, yet
traced not a mark
on noteless time: an empty score
dissonant parts leave
not even the faintest of echos
- - - - - -
From an exercise shared by Sean Critchfield. Take the 7th book on your shelf, turn to page 7, and use the 7th line as your first line. The poem is restricted to 7 lines.
